


Each Eye

by cowboykylux



Series: Mob Boss Kylo Ren AU [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, Jewish Character, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Related, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Mob Boss Kylo Ren, Mob Wife Reader, Murder Family, Power Couple, Pregnancy, Protective Kylo Ren, Submissive Kylo Ren, Violence, Women In Power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2020-09-30 15:53:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 66,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20449661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: Kylo was the most feared boss in the entirety of New York City. They said that the crime families were no more, that they had disappeared with the end of an era. You knew it wasn’t true, you saw first hand. The families didn’t disappear, they simply went underground, adapted.Lucky for you, your man, and your family, no one could ever get rid of crime. Not really.(aka a look inside the violent life of Mob Boss Kylo Ren, and his love for the woman who saved him)





	1. A Vision in Red

If there was one thing that would never change about New York City, it was the traffic.

Kylo checked his watch for the third time in the past five minutes, a tick that made you smile. He held such a high respect for punctuality, it was one of the many things you admired about your man.

“We’re going to get there on time.” You said softly, pressing a calming kiss to his cheek.

He quickly turned his head to steal a kiss from your lips before sighing and gazing out the window. It was raining. Why was it always raining these days? You decided that the first day it was sunny, you’d make Kylo take you into the park, or to the beach.

The two of you were seated in the back of Kylo’s shiny black Bentley as you were driven to the restaurant. Kylo had you pressed against him, his arm slung across your shoulders. You held the hand that caressed your shoulder, gave it an affectionate squeeze.

Today was a big day, the annual meeting of the families.

It had to go well, it simply had to.

Kylo was the most feared boss in the entirety of New York City. They said that the crime families were no more, that they had disappeared with the end of an era. You knew it wasn’t true, you saw first hand. The families didn’t disappear, they simply went underground, adapted. 

No more shootouts in broad daylight, no more bodies in rivers, no…the families couldn’t keep that up, not with everyone getting busted by snooping detectives or the last good cop in the city taking it upon himself to rid the streets of crime.

Lucky for you, your man, and your family, no one could ever get rid of crime. Not really.

Your driver, a small timid man by the name of Dopheld, finally managed to get you out of the traffic, and was now speedily heading towards the restaurant through back roads and shortcuts that few people knew.

Kylo checked his watch. 

Kylo and his KoR had taken over the Organa crime family years ago, nearly ten years ago. He had changed his name at the end of the era, rebranded himself and his crew. When he started, he was just an errand boy for his father, smuggling drugs and guns to whoever was the highest bidder – and now he controlled all of Queens, and half of Manhattan. Where he had been a gangly twenty-five year old, all too long limbs and big ears, now he was impossibly broad and strong, had more kills under his belt than anyone else in the family, even more than Anakin had.

Before he had been alone, and now he had you. Out of everything, he considers that his biggest accomplishment.

And had you he did, you thought with another gentle smile, tucking some of his long hair behind his ear, kissing the spot where his jaw met his neck. You wished he would smile more, you loved his dimples. But this was not an evening for smiles, you knew that. 

Still, you pressed sweet clothed mouthed kisses along his cheek and neck. His free hand squeezed at your knee.

He didn’t like you too far away from him, never too far. He brought you along to every meeting, every dinner. You went with him on every trip, whether it was to the office or the shops downtown. The only time you were more than two feet away from him was when he had to hunt someone down and cut their head off; he liked you to stay home for that (but sometimes you went with him anyway).

The car slowed down to a stop outside the restaurant, John’s of 12th Street. It was one of the only neutral places left to meet, and so the families had all decided on meeting there nearly ninety years ago, when Kylo’s grandfather had been an errand boy himself. A beautiful old Italian restaurant that had the same candles burning as they had during Prohibition, seemingly untouched by time.

“We’ve arrived.” Dopheld said, glancing at you and Kylo through the rear-view mirror.

Dopheld had been your driver since he had gotten his license four years ago. It was important to have a good driver, you thought.

“Right on time.” Kylo said, checking his watch and getting out of the car.

“My pleasure, sir – I’ll wait here, ma’am?” Dopheld asked you, once Kylo was out of earshot.

“Yes please Dopheld, thank you.” You gave him a warm smile, and waited for your door to be opened.

Behind you, another car pulled up and came to a halt. You turned around and waved to the other driver, another boy named Thannison, who became the second driver around the same time Dopheld did. That car contained Knuckles and Slip, your two favorite KoR guys.

The families all met, yes, but no one showed up without some of their guys.

Thanisson waved back, and Knuckles and Slip were out of the car and making their way towards yours with restrained ease. Slip opened the door and Kylo was right there to sling an arm around your waist, a valet boy holding an umbrella over the both of your heads as you made the few steps across the pavement to the cover of the awning. The waitstaff at John’s knew your importance, knew Kylo’s, even if no one technically overlooked this part of town.

Kylo tipped the boy and he disappeared, off to deal with someone else.

The restaurant was busy, as it always was for a Friday night. It was an intimate little place, been open over a hundred years, had seen some of the craziest shit there was. They had candles burning that they first lit to celebrate the end of Prohibition, a shrine of wax that was older than you were.

Rey was waiting near the candles, as she always was. She looked good, well fitting black dress and Louboutins. That was practically the family uniform – Kylo wore his black tuxedo and Louboutin dress shoes, the KoR were dressed similarly. Not as nice.

You were a vision in red, as Kylo said.

Rey wasn’t happy, but then again, she never was.

“You’re late.” She said when the two of you approached.

“I’m on time.” Kylo replied without bothering to roll his eyes.

“Barely.” Rey scoffed, rolling hers.

“There was traffic.” Kylo said just to shut her up.

“There’s always traffic.” Rey shot back, before leaning in to kiss you on the cheek, “Hi (Y/N).”

“Hi Rey, is anyone else here?” You asked, taking a glass of champagne that was offered to you by a waiter who was making the rounds.

Rey took a glass as well, and the two of you clinked them together softly before downing a sip.

“Of course not, there’s still half an hour.” She said easily, making Kylo’s frown twitch.

“So what the fuck are you on my case for about being late?” He grumbled, always the grouch.

“You’re my brother, it’s my job.” Rey said, taking another sip and giving him a sarcastic smile.

“Funny, I thought your job was to take care of Midtown.” He said offhandedly.

“I _am_ taking care of Midtown.” Rey frowned, not liking what he was insinuating one bit.

You sipped your champagne.

“Then why the fuck am I getting calls saying it’s chaos down there?” Kylo asked, voice low.

“Bullshit, who’s calling you?” Rey’s frown deepened, “Why’s this the first I’m hearing of it?”

“We’ll talk about this later, we have bigger things to deal with today and I need you on your best behavior.” Kylo sighed, already tired of this. His hand on your waist balled into a fist and relaxed, did that a couple times just to stretch his fingers.

“I’m not the one who has a temper problem.” Rey muttered into her fluted glass.

“Is Gwen coming?” You asked, just to diffuse the situation. You wanted this to be a calm, peaceful evening, and getting Kylo wound up before the dinner had even really started was not something that would be good for anyone.

Pressed up against him like this, you could feel the gun he had hidden in his suspender holster. Hopefully he wouldn’t be using it tonight.

“Yeah, she should be here any minute.” Rey picked up what you were putting down, and let the subject drop. There’d be time to talk about Midtown later.

“Let’s go in, it looks better when we’re already settled.” You suggested, and Kylo was never one to disagree with you, so in you went.

* * *

It wouldn’t do of course, to eat in public. Not with so many high profile criminals in attendance. No, instead you had a private room in the back, one that had been built and maintained explicitly for these annual dinners. Everyone had a seat, and every seat belonged to someone. No one ever changed spots – ever.

You were chatting with Knuckles and Slip while Kylo and Rey had a sibling quarrel when the door to the private room opened. In walked a tall muscular woman who you absolutely adored.

“Gwen!” You greeted your friend with a big smile, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek while still wrapped up in Kylo’s arm.

“Hey (Y/N), how are you sweetie?” Gwen asked.

She wasn’t just your friend, she was your cousin. She was flanked by some more of your cousins who were serving as her ‘guys,’ even though one look at Gwen and it was clear that she didn’t need any protecting.

Even before marrying Kylo, you had been a member of one of the largest and oldest crime families. You had never participated, not like Gwen did, but you were practically royalty in the underground crime world.

“I’m great, your hair looks amazing.” You reached up to touch her blonde locks that had been shorn into a close pixie.

“Thanks, I just had it cut. Hi Kylo, Rey.” Gwen greeted them, making Rey blush.

“Hey Gwen.” They both said back, although Rey said it a little softer than Kylo.

You suppressed a knowing smile as you met your sister in-law’s eyes.

“Are we the first ones?” Gwen asked, taking a glass of champagne.

No one could sit until everyone had arrived, it was the only polite thing to do, especially with such old members joining them. So everyone sipped their champagne, ate hours d’oeurves as waiters brought them around on platters.

“Yeah, but they’ll be here.” You replied.

“Who else is coming?” She asked, just out of curiosity.

Gwen was one of two new heads that would be joining the dinner. She had taken over for your uncle after his passing a few months ago, and had done quite well. She was taking this dinner deadly serious, which she should have – guns could be drawn at any time, for any reason.

“The usual, the Mandalorians, the Hutts, Uncle Lando, Tarkin, and Hux.” Kylo said, eyes darkening at the mention of the second newest head that would be joining.

“Hux?” Gwen asked with eyebrows raised.

It was an open secret that the man had murdered his own father to climb the ranks within his own family. Not to say that Brendol wasn’t deserving of it, but generally, patricide was viewed in poor taste, unless the father in question was a rat, like Kylo’s had been.

Brendol had been many things, but he was no rat, and many of the other families viewed Hux as a power-obsessed maniac. Probably because he was one.

“Well why not? We made peace with the Irish after the bullshit with Snoke ended.” Rey shrugged, making you sigh.

“He’s been talking a big game, wants to expand his territory.” You chimed in, resting your head on Kylo’s chest as his hand smoothed up your back to cup the nape of your neck. 

“I’m sure he’ll bring it up tonight at some point, we’ll deal with it when it happens.” Kylo muttered, leaning down to kiss you softly.

Sometimes, kissing you was the only thing that stopped him from losing his patience.

* * *

Slowly, more and more heads of family trickled in.

The first of which was Bob Fett, the head of the Mandalorian family. They orchestrated murders for the highest bidder, and they had never not delivered, not in the sixty years that Bob had been running things. He was well dressed, as they all were, and always well mannered. Manners were extremely important to the older heads, for they still lived in a world where there was a code among thieves.

“Mr. Ren, Miss Organa, how good to see you.” Bob kissed Rey’s hand, shook Kylo’s.

“Wonderful to see you too Mr. Fett, thank you for coming.” Rey greeted him as Kylo simply nodded.

“Of course! How’s your mother doing?” Bob asked, and Kylo’s grip on your neck twitched just a little bit.

“She’s well, thank you, how’s your hip?” Rey said quickly, steering the conversation away from Leia.

That would _really_ set Kylo’s temper off.

“Oh you know, same shit different day. I’ve got an appointment to get it looked at tomorrow.” Bob said, before finally turning to you and kissing your hand, “And of course Mrs. Ren, how are you my dear?”

“I’m great, thank you for asking.” You greeted him.

You had always liked Bob, he was a greasy slimy sonofabitch, but he knew that. You always appreciated the men who were honest about what they were, who didn’t try and pretend it was something more glamorous than it was.

“You look stunning, as always.” He complimented you, letting go of your hand quickly. The last thing he wanted was Kylo to chop it off like he had done to too many others in the past.

“You’re too kind, thank you.” You said, putting your hand back on his chest.

“Where is my seat?” Bob joked, made the same joke that he had been making for the past forty years.

“The same place it always is, Mr. Fett. Care for a glass of wine?” You gave a genuine laugh at his joke, thinking he was funny in that way old men tried to be, and waving to one of the waiters.

“You know me so well.” Bob gave a gold-toothed grin and accepted the wine on his way to his seat.

Kylo’s Uncle Lando was the next to arrive, dressed in a bright purple suit and wearing a cape rather than a tuxedo jacket. Your face lit up at the sight of him, you appreciated that he never showed up in a boring old tux like the rest of these men.

Lando wasn’t really Kylo’s uncle, he was a business partner of Han for many years. But respect was given where respect was due, and well, you’d only ever been introduced to him as Uncle Lando. He was everyone’s uncle, always having something for everyone, always bringing gifts. His guys who followed him carried gifts now, began putting them on everyone’s place setting.

“Uncle Lando, you are looking stylish as ever.” You said as he kissed your hand, gave Kylo a hearty pat on the back.

“Thank you baby, I save my very best for occasions such as this.” Lando winked, before moving on to talk to Rey and Gwen.

Tarkin arrived next, and in that overly formal German way of his he only greeted everyone and immediately went to his seat. He was even older than Bob, so everyone let him get away with whatever he wanted.

It was exactly one minute until eight o’clock when Hux walked in. Kylo had been schmoozing with Bob and Lando and Gwen, and you had kept an eye out for shadows at the door.

“He’s here.” You said, a moment before it opened and Hux’s backlight form silenced the room.

It had been a year since you’d seen him last, since the whole debacle with Snoke. There had been rumors that Hux wasn’t happy, was planning some trouble – there was rumor he wasn’t going to show up tonight. Seeing him was good, it was a sign of good faith that he came.

“Mr. Hux, so glad you could make it.” Kylo gave him a clipped hello, extended his hand.

Hux looked at it for a moment before shaking it firmly.

“It’s the least I could do.” He replied, and you let out the smallest huff of a laugh, drawing his attention. “Hello Mrs. Ren, you’re looking exceptionally lovely this evening.”

He didn’t kiss your hand, you were certain Kylo would have broken his nose if he did.

“It’s good to see you Mr. Hux.” You said with a genuine smile, knowing how prickly your husband was likely to be.

“I’ve heard that there’s much you’d like to discuss tonight.” Kylo said, the entire room still as if it were empty.

Hux cleared his throat, disappointed that he hadn’t been the first one to bring it up.

“Yes, there is.” He said, taking a glass of wine from the waiter’s tray, “But there’ll be time for that later, for now I’m looking forward to some delicious veal.”

“Well you’re in luck, the veal here is out of this world.” Rey said, making Bob shake his head.

“John’s is good – but if you want the best, you come down to my place in the Bronx, it’ll blow your fuckin’ mind.” Bob winked.

“Watch out, I just might take you up on that.” Hux winked back with a forced smile that gave you the creeps.

* * *

It was after eight, and one seat was still empty. The Hutts were, frankly, annoying. You didn’t like any of the entire family, not Jabba or his son Rotta, or any of the cousins and nephews and uncles that came along with them. Jabba had never missed a dinner, but his seat was empty.

Usually that meant the person was dead, but you hadn’t heard any news of the old man kicking the bucket. 

Everyone turned to Kylo for what to do, and when he moved to his seat at the table, everyone followed.

It was like something out of a movie, the scene before you. There you all were, nine chairs arranged in a big circle around a white linen-clad table, in the middle of this candlelit room that hadn’t changed since the 1930s. Each head of the family had their support standing behind them, flanking their either side.

Kylo had you sit in his seat for the time being, as he remained standing. He lifted his champagne glass and cleared his throat. 

“I’d like to make a toast, if I may.” He said, giving enough pause for each of the heads to lift their own glass. “Almost a hundred years ago our families found it in their hearts to put aside their differences for one night. In those years, the families have changed – some have gotten bigger, and some have sadly, gotten smaller – but the families remain, and our impact on the city remains. I would like to thank all of you for keeping the traditions alive by meeting together here for another year, let us look forward to a prosperous new decade before us.”

His toast was met with a round of happy agreements, and everyone drank to their health. You stood just long enough for Kylo to sit in his seat, and pull you flush against his side where you belonged.

“That was beautiful.” Lando said to Kylo from across the table, unfolding his napkin and tucking it into the collar of his shirt.

Kylo was about to reply when the door unceremoniously burst open, making all the bodyguards at the table draw their guns.

Everyone dropped their arms with a groan when they saw who had barged in unannounced and uninvited – it was none other than the heir to the Hutt empire himself, Rotta.

“Am I late?” He asked, his attempt at humor falling flatly.

“What are you doing here?” Tarkin asked, sneering at the sweaty little man who wasn’t even bothering to say ‘excuse me’ as he shoved his way past the waiters who were busy trying to refill everyone’s drinks and take orders. He was followed by two of his cousins, Leo and Kole.

“Jabba ain’t gonna be able to make it tonight, he sent me instead.” Rotta explained, making Kylo frown.

“What the hell do you mean he ain’t gonna be here, it’s the one night of the fucking year we all get together.” Bob threw a hand up in disbelief.

Rotta shrugged, knocked over a glass of wine accidentally on his way to his father’s seat.

“This is a new suit Rotta what the fuck are you doing?” Lando got up out of his seat quickly, yanked the napkin from his collar to try and wipe up the spilled wine with the aid of a few fast waiters who were nearby.

“Christ I’m sorry I don’t know what the fuck you want me to tell ya, he ain’t coming, he sent me instead. I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here, trust me.” Rotta grunted, saying his hellos to everyone as he finally made it to the other side of the table and plopped down in his seat.

He said hello to everyone, except you, that is.

That fact did not go unnoticed, and just as when Hux walked in, the room fell silent as Rotta began drinking some wine without even so much as acknowledging you – something that Hux at the very least had the good sense to do.

It was deathly quiet aside from Rotta’s slurping of his wine, until the ignorant bliss wore off and he looked around in confusion at the change in atmosphere.

“…What?” he asked, licking the cabernet off his lips.

“I think you’re forgetting someone.” Kylo said, voice even and low. Dangerous.

Everyone held their breath.

Rotta squinted at you, like he didn’t recognize you.

And in fairness, maybe he didn’t. You hadn’t had many interactions with him, both you and Kylo preferred to deal with his father. Jabba was a sick bastard, but he at the very least had manners, something he clearly didn’t pass down to Rotta.

Still, it was well known that above anything else, you were to be treated with the utmost respect.

Rotta apparently hadn’t gotten the memo.

“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t realize we coulda brought our whores to dinner.” Rotta sneered, unfolding his napkin, “What’s your name sweetheart?” 

Before anyone could even gasp at the insult, Kylo reached into his tux jacket and pulled his gun from the suspender holster, firing three shots directly into Rotta’s chest.

So much for keeping Kylo’s temper in place, you thought, as Rotta was knocked backwards from the force of the bullets. You were grateful that the room was soundproofed, and that there was a band playing in the main eating area.

All of a sudden, there was a flurry of movement. Rotta’s guys pulled their guns in the blink of an eye, torn between shooting and getting Rotta out of there. At the same time, you reached across Kylo’s chest to grab the second gun he kept on the other side of his suspender holster, held it evenly in their direction. Knuckles and Slip and Rey all had theirs drawn too.

Gwen, Hux, Tarkin, Bob, and Lando sipped their drinks. 

“Get him out of here,” Kylo said to one of the Hutts, “And tell Jabba what happened.” 

The Hutts knew how outnumbered they were, and decided to listen to Kylo. The second they grabbed Rotta and hauled him out through the back entrance so as to not cause any trouble, all the guns went away.

And to think you thought Hux was going to be the difficult part of this dinner.

Outside the room, you could hear beautiful Italian music playing from the live band, and you tried focusing on that, gave Kylo’s hand a squeeze under the table where no one would notice. You gave Rey a look, and she turned to the nearest person to strike up conversation.

“So, Uncle Lando, how’s the casino business treating you?” She started, letting the elderly man launch into a whole animated story like he was wont to do.

“It’s been wonderful, Cloud City has never been better…!” 

* * *

The food came, and soon conversation died down to a pleasant chatter between those who were seated next to each other. Dinner was delicious as usual, wine glasses were refilled and the mood lightened considerably once everyone had relaxed into their chairs.

It wasn’t until dessert and coffee arrived, that the conversation became all inclusive.

“Anyone been having any trouble with the cops lately?” Gwen asked, bringing it up to the table.

“Yeah as a fuckin’ matter of fact, we have.” Bob sighed, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“You need help takin’ care of them?” You asked, making him smile and shake his head.

Your family, which was now represented by Gwen, was very close with the cops. They had crooked pigs in just about every precinct from here to Jersey; it’s what had helped them stay one step ahead all the time.

“That’s very kind of you Mrs. Ren but no thank you. Not yet, anyway. I think we’ve got a rat in the family.” He said, making everyone groan.

A rat was the worst fucking thing to have, everyone knew it.

“No kidding?” Rey asked with wide eyes, like such a thing were a scandal – because it was.

“No one has any fucking respect anymore, it’s ridiculous.” Tarkin muttered with a disappointed shake of his head.

“Do you have any idea who it might be?” You asked, your mind cycling through the members of the Mandalorian family, trying to think if you’d heard or seen anything suspicious.

“I got a couple ideas, but nothing too concrete yet. We’re workin’ on it.” Bob said, not unkindly. “But until we do, we’ve got to be extra fucking careful with all these cops crawling around.”

“Cops ain’t what they used to be.” Tarkin sighed sympathetically.

“Cops never used to be shit,” Lando scoffed, “I remember when you could pay off a man and he’d actually fucking help you out. These days it’s money, drugs, women, the whole fucking thing. It’s like they want to be in the family now, get pissy when we tell them no.”

“What’s worse are the politicians!” Bob agreed, and the whole table laughed. “I have to admit Mr. Hux, Mr. Ren, that it’s very nice seeing you sitting at this table together.” Bob said when the laughter died down naturally.

“Who says we can’t be civil?” Kylo said, breaking off a piece of tiramisu with his fork.

The elephant in the room was finally being addressed.

“Quite a few people, if I’m being honest.” Gwen piped up from where she and Rey had gotten very cozy over on their side of the table.

“I have no desire to break the peace we’ve managed to find…however rumor has it that Mr. Hux isn’t so inclined.” Kylo said calmly.

You were begging Kylo to stay calm, especially after Rotta. There would no doubt be trouble with Jabba, the last thing anyone needed was trouble with the Irish.

“I want Hell’s Kitchen.” Hux said, unprompted.

Well, Fuck.

“No you don’t.” You replied right away.

“My father ran Hell’s Kitchen for thirty years. My grandfather ran it for thirty years before that.” Hux continued, ignoring you.

“Forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, Mr. Hux, but your father ran it into the dirt. You remember what that place used to be? The squalor?” Rey brought up with a raised brow.

“I’m not my father.” Hux countered, his steely green eyes unwavering as he said, “And I’m not asking you.”

“Hell’s Kitchen is Rey’s, you damn well are asking her.” Lando laughed, in disbelief of this kid.

Hux was nearing forty, but everyone was a kid to Lando.

“Who gave it to her? You? Mr. Ren, I don’t have to tell you what it’s like to live up to a family name – ”

“No, you don’t.” Kylo cut him off, “You also don’t get to ask for things that aren’t yours.”

“But it _is_ mine.” Hux frowned, getting annoyed.

You tried running the numbers in your head, tried seeing things from his point of view. Hux’s family controlled nearly all of Brooklyn, the Irish had always been settled there, for about as far back as Kylo’s grandfather had been settled in Queens. The fight for Hell’s Kitchen had been a losing one for a reason, there was too much bullshit that that territory had attached to it, it’s why no one wanted it in the first place. And these days, with it so close to squeaky clean Times Square and all the tourism, there was very little opportunity for back-door deals.

So why did he want it? It was so far out of his way, and Rey was managing things decently well.

“Hypothetically, what would you give for Hell’s Kitchen?” You asked, making Hux’s eyes snap to you.

“Pardon?” He asked, as if the question offended him.

“You don’t get something for nothing, you know that’s not how this works.” You said, not that you had any intention of giving him anything.

“I don’t think you understand me, Mr. Ren – ” Hux tried to ignore you once again, which really didn’t make Kylo any happier with the situation.

“I understand you perfectly well, Mr. Hux.” Kylo cut him off again, his hand curling into a fist under the table. “It isn’t going to happen, you will not change my mind. You have a very nicely sized chunk of the city; I wonder how you’re not busy enough as it is maintaining that. Are you bored? Is that it?”

“He’s hungry.” Gwen sucked her teeth, making Hux frown.

“Ms. Phasma – ” He started, but Gwen was having none of it.

“No, Mr. Hux, he’s is right, you have more than enough of the city to keep you busy and rich. Your eyes are bigger than your stomach, it’s stupid to want to take on more than you already have at present.” It might not have looked like it, but Gwen was a close friend of Hux’s, and it was evident only she could call him out on his bullshit like this and get away with it.

“Just because I am new to running things doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.” Hux reigned in his own temper, and sat calmly in his seat.

“No, it just means you don’t know how to do it the best. Not yet, anyway.” Tarkin piped up from his spot at the other end of the table.

The tips of Hux’s ears went red.

“Perhaps next year we can negotiate something.” Kylo said, as he signaled for his check.

He had had just about enough, you could tell by the way he was clenching his jaw.

“Perhaps.” Hux agreed through tight teeth of his own.

* * *

“You know, once you start this…there ain’t any going back.” You said softly, hours later in bed.

The rain had picked up significantly, autumn storms rolling across the night sky. The meeting hadn’t gone as well as either of you had hoped, and you could tell Hux had really gotten on Kylo’s nerves. The last thing anyone needed was a war with the Irish, not so soon after peace had been made with them. You could tell Kylo was stressed about it, could tell he needed some softness tonight.

It was dark in the bedroom, nothing but the flickering orange glow of a candle and the crack of lightning to illuminate the spacious master suite. You and Kylo were in your underwear, facing each other tucked up under the covers and merely a few inches apart. He never liked to be very far from you.

Kylo had his hand curled around yours under the blankets, gave it a squeeze. He was never very forthcoming with his more sentimental emotions, but you could tell a teasing mood when one was coming. 

“Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?” He asked slowly, dark eyes glittering.

For all his posturing, he really did like a good challenge every now and again. You always were happy to give him one.

“You bet tough guy.” You grin, quirking an eyebrow, “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” Kylo whispered, and you giggled just the tiniest bit.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, trying to play it cool even though he was already sliding his free hand under you to pull you flush against him.

“Yeah, get the fuck over here.” He said, as if you were miles away, as if you weren’t practically breathing in his air, sucking it straight from his throat.

“Nah, if you want me you gotta catch – ” You tried wiggling away, but he shot up almost as fast as the lightning outside your giant windows, wrapped both his arms around your middle and rolled over so you were pinned underneath him. “Kylo!”

You laughed and gasped at the way his hands pressed just under your ribcage where he knew you were ticklish.

You wrestled with him for a while, laughing and laughing, trying to get purchase on him back. He was too broad, made up of too much muscle for you to really do any damage. The bed was so big you probably could have rolled around and around and around, and still not fallen off the edge.

In the end, you managed to get him onto his back, straddling his hips.

He had the smallest hint of a smile, just the ghost of his dimples showing as he toyed with the waistband of your panties, lightly plucked at the elastic and watched as it snapped against your skin.

“I’m gonna start this shit, and I’m gonna see it through, okay?” He asked, so soft. Not a lot of people knew how sensitive he was, your Kylo.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, but I don’t gotta tell you that.” You smiled with kind eyes down at him, shimmied lightly in his hold as his hands smoothed their way up your sides.

He liked to look at you, just look. He was looking now.

“I don’t want you around for the mess.” He said, soothing circles on your hip.

“I’m no stranger to mess, honey.” You cupped his cheek, the one with the scar he hated so much.

You didn’t hate it, it was what brought you two together. You thought it made him look handsome.

He turned his face to kiss your wrist, kiss up your arm. He kissed all the way up until he was sitting up against the headboard, you still in his lap as he wound his arms tightly around you.

“I know,” He said, resting his head on your shoulder, just holding you, “But I don’t like the thought of you getting hurt.”

“You’d never let that happen.” You hummed, combed your fingers through his hair.

It never ceased to amaze you, how this giant man, the most feared in all of New York, could make himself so small when he was with you.

“You’re thinkin’ too much.” You whispered, grabbing Kylo’s hands and guiding them up to your tits.

He let out a deep breath, a longing sigh as he squeezed them, kneaded them in those big bear paws of his. He liked looking at you, but he liked touching you more, and he let those dark eyes of his slip closed as he leaned in to kiss you, facial hair tickling your chin, your cheeks.

You laughed against his lips as he bit and licked into your mouth, his hands coming up from your tits to hold your face gently, ever so gently. Those hands, which had strangled people, stabbed and shot them, drowned and punched and and and, those rough and calloused hands had never felt softer on your skin than when he held you so gently like this.

You pulled away just enough to blow out the candle, letting the night, and Kylo, envelop you completely.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke up before you, as he always did.

Kylo tended to sleep like an octopus, all long limbs thrown about. Always a hand on you somewhere, if not completely wrapped around you. You’d be fucked if you ever woke up before him, those arms of his had a habit of tightening around you subconsciously when you tried to pull away to get up so you could use the bathroom or even just to stretch.

But he woke up before you, kissed you awake like he always did.

You smiled against his lips, let yourself be kissed sweetly.

The two of you were laying on your sides, facing one another under the covers. It was so warm, warm and safe in your grand penthouse that overlooked the city. He kissed you and you slid your arms around him, encouraging him to glue himself to you.

“Morning.” He said, that baritone pressing into your skin in a way that turned you to jelly.

You didn’t have to look at the clock to know it was exactly five a.m., the same time he woke you up every day. He didn’t like to be up by himself for too long.

“Morning.” You smiled back, easing the sleep out of your body with soft grunts as you stretched your calves and rolled your shoulders.

“Can I?” Kylo asked, and you kissed him.

“Come here.” You replied, rolling over onto your back and parting your thighs.

In the soft light of the moon, not yet dawn, you swore you saw a little smile grace his lips.

Languorously, Kylo fucked you. He always woke up hard, it was sweet how he craved you so much, even in sleep he was desperate for you. But ever the gentleman he asked, wanted to make sure you wanted it, wanted him. If you ever said no, he’d take care of himself on his own – not that you said no very often.

It was a wonderful way to wake up, and sometimes you wish he’d fuck you awake instead of just kiss you, wake you with an orgasm, but he was too polite, even after all this time.

You and Kylo had been married for three entire years, would be three years on the dot tomorrow, but you’d known him your whole life.

You’d loved him just as long.

“(Y/N)…” He said your name over and over again, like it was a prayer dripping from his lips, like he wasn’t sure if this was real or just another one of his dreams. He’s generally quiet when he fucks you like this, when you let him be on top, when you let him have some semblance of control.

You’re always the one in charge, despite what people think, but it’s nice to let him do what he wants sometimes. You’ll drag moans out of him later, when you know he’ll need it.

You moaned and clutched at his back, kissed and sucked marks onto his neck as that cock of his worked into you. It was real, you wanted him to know it was real. You let your nails dig into the meat of his shoulder, the slight sting of it enough to ground him.

It wasn’t fast or rough, not this early, but it was more than enough to make your toes curl and your eyes clamp shut, the sound of his heavy breathing and the feeling of him atop you so fully making you feel so completely surrounded and overwhelmed.

“Kylo, I’m gonna – ” You started and he nodded, cut you off with a kiss.

“Go ahead, I’m right – I’m right there.” He drooled into your mouth just a little, and if you didn’t love him so much you’d probably think it was gross, but very little about Kylo grossed you out, not really.

You came at the same time, his hips coming to a stop and he grunted as he shot his load deep inside you. You’d been trying, finally decided to start trying, and Kylo was hooked on the idea of it, so he kept himself buried inside you even as he started kissing the sweat from your face. You shifted your hips a little to get more comfortable, and he moved with you.

The light of pre-dawn started to filter through the blue of night, and you pet back his hair behind his ears as he kept kissing your skin.

“Busy day today?” You asked, not wanting to rush him, just wanting to know what was on the agenda for the day.

Saturdays were usually packed with visits to family and friends alike, Kylo had no real concept of weekend rest. The rest of the family kept the Sabbath, so no one was out and about, meaning if anything wanted to get done, Kylo had to do it. Sometimes you wished he would just relax with you for a little bit, but he gets antsy if he’s not doing something for too long.

Always has to be doing something, your man.

He did all his own scheduling, unlike some of the other families who had a right-hand or a secretary do it for them. Kylo loved and trusted his people, but like everything else, he was very much of the belief that if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.

You had your calendars on your phone synched up, but it didn’t really matter because you weren’t ever away from him long enough to need to check.

“Yeah.” He said with a content sigh, finally pulling out of you with a bit of a wince from the oversensitivity. You knew if he could get away with staying inside you forever, he would. “I want to go visit everyone. And visit Midtown.”

A busy day indeed then, you thought.

“You think it’s a good idea going down there before talking to Rey?” You asked, kissed and nipped at the strong muscle of his shoulder.

“If she’s doing her job, she’ll already be down there and we can talk to her then.” He rolled his eyes, making you grin and bite a little harder at his sass.

Kylo liked to be hands-on, never some mysterious man in the shadows. He wanted the people who liked him to know who they liked, and the people who hated him to know who they hated.

Not a lot of people hated Kylo, but enough. 

“Should I start breakfast?” You asked, but he frowned and buried his face in your neck, licked his tongue along your pulse, always so clingy.

Your arms held him tight, and he sighed again, but this time with contentment.

“Mmm, just stay here with me for a little bit first?” His muffled words tingled your neck, making you smile.

Getting Kylo out of bed was a lot harder than it really needed to be. He was incredibly difficult to get into bed, but once he was in he never wanted to leave. He once kept you in bed for three days straight, had Six bring up food and drink for you. You only ever took breaks to use the bathroom before it was right back to rolling around in the sheets.

It wasn’t always sex, either. Most of the time he liked just being close to you, collecting you against his chest as you watched a movie or whatever you had put on the Netflix list. Sometimes the two of you sat up in bed and played cards, sometimes you just talked, sometimes you wrestled.

He always let you win, bless him.

“Can we at least go to the bathroom first?” You asked, your bladder finally catching up to the rest of you.

“If we have to.” Kylo groaned, ever the one for dramatics, and you laughed as the sun started peeking its way over the skyline.

“We do.” You nudged him, laughed as he let himself turn into dead weight as you struggled to push him off the mattress.

* * *

An hour later you finally convinced him to get out of bed for the day. As much as you loved your bedroom, your favorite spot in the house was downstairs, was the outrageously large living room. With windows spanning the entire wall, you had a perfect view of the Chrysler building as you ate your breakfast, surrounded by the soft muted greys of the furnishings.

Breakfast was eaten on the couch, the dishes left in the sink of the kitchen to be dealt with later. Against Kylo’s insistence, you did the dishes as opposed to the cleaning crew that came in every week. You figured they had enough to do with the five thousand square-foot two-story apartment as it was, plus sometimes it was fun to pretend you were a normal housewife.

You were anything but, but it was fun to pretend every once in a while.

Kylo drank an entire pot of coffee all on his own, black and bitter. You had a cup or two yourself, mostly cream and sugar, and you each made fun of each other’s preferences in that way that only you could.

The shower was quick and efficient, Kylo hated showering in the morning, preferred to do it at night to unwind. You showered together, because of course you did, you did everything together.

“Which black suit are we wearing today?” You asked with a teasing hum once you both had dried off and were standing in his closet.

You were already dressed, already knew what you wanted to wear. A simple navy velvet number, one that’d look good with your hair and coloring. You wished more people wore navy, it was such a flattering shade of blue.

Kylo ought to wear navy every once in a while, you thought with a big grin that he caught and rolled his eyes. 

“Keep teasing me and I’m not taking you to Paris.” He grumbled. Looked like he was still waiting for the coffee to kick in, such a grump. You loved him.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You scoffed, reaching into one of the drawers and pulling out a nice set of cufflinks to fasten to his button down.

They were a pair you had bought him for your one year anniversary, beautiful garnet ovals that were his exact favorite shade of red.

“Try me.” He swooped down for a kiss as you fixed his cuffs and straightened his tie, matching red satin.

“You’re feisty today.” You tugged on his tie with a great big smile, and you swore you saw a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“Can’t help it, you’ve rubbed off on me these three years.” He was always so reserved, everything he said was always so quiet, even when it was playful or humorous. It was one of the things you had grown to appreciate the most about him, the way his eyes sparkled with mirth whenever he was in a good mood.

“Only the three?” You playfully frowned, and he kissed it off your lips, making you laugh.

“Let’s go you terror, before I throw you back in bed.” He said with a pinch to your ass, making you swat his arm.

He caught it and wrapped it around him, the two of you leaving the penthouse side by side.

* * *

Since it was Saturday and no one in your family was working, Kylo got to drive.

Owning too many cars didn’t make sense, living in the city and all. It was far easier to be driven, but Dopheld and Thanisson were being good Jewish boys and spending the day with their mothers, so Kylo got to be the one to weave in and out of traffic. 

He drove with his hand on your thigh, only taking it off to give assholes on the road the middle finger.

The first stop on the list was the deli, Katz’s in the Lower East Side.

It was a historic building, always busy, and today was no exception. In fact, because it was Saturday morning, it was probably even more busy than usual, so you and Kylo made your way through the back entrance, not wanting to draw too much attention walking in the front.

“Kylo! (Y/N)! My god, what a pleasant surprise!” Richard Cohen, the current owner of the delicatessen spotted you happily as you closed the door behind you.

“Hi Mr. Cohen, how are you today?” You grinned, leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Terrific, absolutely terrific I gotta admit. All thanks to you two no less.” Richard had always been a very upbeat guy, it tended to make you chuckle to yourself seeing stoic Kylo next to such an energetic and all over the place kind of guy. “Did you happen to get the gift I sent you?”

“We did, it was very kind, thank you.” Kylo nodded.

Gifts had been getting delivered to the apartment for the past week, all from various people who wanted to stay in Kylo’s good graces, and genuinely send congratulations to the two of you.

Richard had sent gorgeous bouquets of flowers, a dozen of them, populated with all of your favorite kinds of florals. Kylo had sat back while you instructed the delivery men to place all the giant bouquets around, and you smiled at the flowers every chance you got.

“Well a little birdie told me that it was a certain someone’s anniversary soon so I couldn’t not send something.” Richard winked, making you grin.

“Mr. Cohen you are positively the sweetest.” You raised an eyebrow, “How’d you know?”

“A butcher knows everything, Mrs. Ren.” Richard said.

“If that’s so then why don’t you come work for us?” Kylo joked, earning him a pleased squeeze of the hand from you.

“If I weren’t an old man, you bet I would.” Richard said with such conviction that you both believed him.

“Have there been any problems, any at all?” Kylo asked sincerely, not unkindly.

“No Mr. Ren! Believe me, I wouldn’t keep something like that from you.” Richard said, shaking his head vehemently. “No, thanks to you we’ve not been having any issues whatsoever.”

“Alright, but you’ll let me know?” Kylo insisted, and Richard nodded.

“Of course I will – here have a bite to eat, hm?” He offered, walking towards the kitchen.

“Mr. Cohen I’m sorry but we’ve already eaten.” You explained, making Richard pause.

“Take some to go for lunch then.” He said with a big smile, and you graciously accepted the sub sandwiches he wrapped in paper for you.

The two of you were just leaving out the back way that you came, when a car pulled up right in the alleyway.

Kylo had a fantastic poker face, but you could feel him tense up as he stood in front of you, hand twitching to reach into his suit jacket and pull out his gun. You had throwing knives in the heel of your shoes, should you need to be quicker than Kylo – but Kylo was pretty quick, so you just froze too as the window of the car rolled down, revealing a very impassive Jabba the Hutt.

“That was some fucking stunt you pulled with Rotta.” The old man said, puffing on a cigar.

Kylo didn’t relax entirely, but he knew he could handle Jabba, knew he wouldn’t shoot Kylo in broad daylight. As Jabba always liked to say, things ain’t what they used to be.

“Is he dead?” Kylo asked, not bothering too much to put any amount of care in his voice.

“You better wish he were dead, because if he ain’t he’s coming for you.” Jabba said, and the two of them had a stare-down for a moment.

Kylo was the expert in patience, and he always won.

He was still staring with a cool poker face, when Jabba broke out into a big wet laugh.

“Yeah I doubt that.” Kylo muttered, mostly so only you could hear, before raising his voice and asking, “Where the fuck were you yesterday?”

“I had some business to attend to.” Jabba shrugged, blowing smoke.

“Business? Jabba it’s the one night a year there ain’t supposed to be any business.” Kylo scoffed with a frown.

“Yeah? So what. There was business.” Jabba dismissed him, which you didn’t like.

You didn’t like it one bit.

“Even Hux showed up.” You said from behind Kylo, making Jabba’s eyebrows raise.

“That slimy sycophant?” He hummed, now starting to regret not showing up. “He tell you he wanted Hell’s Kitchen?”

“You’d know if you showed up.” You shrugged, making him grit his teeth. You could tell by the way his jaw moved.

“Look. About Rotta, I’m sorry, I don’t know where the fuck he gets that behavior of his from.” Jabba sighed, and Kylo’s hand tensed in yours.

“If you’re looking for an apology – ” Kylo started, only for Jabba to wave his hand.

“I’m not, you did the right thing, I don’t blame you.” Jabba said. “If some piece of shit kid said somethin’ about my wife I woulda blown his guts all over the wall. You were too nice to him.”

“He gonna live?” Kylo asked. He had purposefully shot the kid in places he knew he’d recover from, no vital organs or anything like that. Maybe he’d need a new kidney, who knew.

Kylo knew, and you knew, and Jabba knew.

“Yeah, he’ll be okay. Got the best surgeons lookin’ after him.” He said.

“Pity.” Kylo replied.

After a tense moment, Jabba burst out into the obnoxious laughter again, and the window rolled up, and he drove away.

You and Kylo stood there, watching the car disappear into traffic before he held the door open for you to climb into his jaguar, the two of you heading the opposite direction.

* * *

The drive to midtown didn’t take too long, twenty minutes because of traffic. The two of you soon found yourselves on the front stoop of Rey’s gorgeous three floor town-home.

Rey yanked the door open and was scowling at her brother from across the threshold before Kylo could even bother to ring the doorbell.

“Rey.” Kylo greeted his sister, pushing his way in the door.

“What are you doing here?” She asked with a groan, clearly just having gotten out of bed.

She was wrapped in a white fluffy robe and was still clad in her slippers, her hair all mussed from sleep.

You kissed her cheek in greeting and she closed the door behind you, locked all five bolts and retreated into the kitchen where Kylo had made himself comfortable, leaning against the counter with his hands in his pockets.

You always wondered how those big hands of his fit into pockets, pockets weren’t made big enough for them, for those baseball mitts of his.

“Smelling the roses, what the fuck do you think I’m doing here?” Kylo snapped.

Rey sighed and poured herself a big mug of coffee, even though it was already after eleven o’clock in the morning.

“Kylo I don’t have time to talk to you today.” Rey said, checking the calendar that hung up on the side of one of the cabinets. “It’s Saturday, you shouldn’t be working anyway.”

“You’re my last stop of the day.” Kylo lied, making you chuckle.

“Oh hello.” A familiar voice sounded from the stairs.

“Gwen!” You smiled, “What a surprise.”

Gwen was in a tank top and shorts, her muscles on full display. You couldn’t help but mentally give yourself a high-five for being right, about the two of them, about their chemistry at dinner last night. You would have bet money that they would have gone home together, just by the very way they sat leaning in towards one another all evening.

“Is it?” Gwen asked, a teasing eyebrow raised.

“No.” You laughed as she swatted your arm playfully.

Rey was mortified, absolutely mortified, her face gone a dark red.

“Can you please leave now?” She asked as Kylo poured himself a mug of his own from the French press Rey had brewed up.

You put a gentle hand on his wrist, a signal that that was the last one for today. He nodded minutely, and you smiled.

“No, since I’ve got you both here, we need to figure out what the fuck is going on with Hell’s Kitchen and Midtown in general.” Kylo said, practically grumbled.

“(Y/N) control your husband.” Rey turned to you, but you just waved her off.

“Oh let him get it out. The sooner you listen to him, the sooner he’ll leave you alone.” You said, and Kylo nodded.

“Why’d you give me the fucking thing if you were just going to micromanage it anyway?” Rey snatched the French press from his hands and set it down on the marble counter top.

“To get you out of my hair and give you something to do, to be honest.” Kylo said making Rey roll her eyes, “But looks like that fucking backfired on me, because I got this yesterday morning.”

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his voice mails until he found the one he was looking for, put it on speaker and tossed the phone onto the counter as it played:

_“Hey uh, Mr. Ren? It’s Lenny. I know I’m supposed to talk directly with your sister, but no one can get a hold of her? Anyway, I figured I’d call you because we’ve been gettin’ some trouble around here – robberies – and no one really seems to be doin’ anything about it? Not for nothin’, and I mean no disrespect sir, but we don’t pay you for you to not do anything, you know? Anyway, please call me back or send someone down, I’d appreciate it. Once again, this is Lenny, from Hell’s Kitchen.” _

“So.” Kylo said, expectantly, his hand on your hip.

“I don’t know who Lenny is.” Rey shrugged.

“Lenny Leibowitz?” Kylo stared at her like he was getting ready to strangle her. You gently took the coffee cup from him and sipped it instead as Kylo tried jogging his sister’s memory, “He runs the fucking bodega, where half the coke in midtown is stored? If people are robbing him, then they might find it and then we’d be in big fuckin’ trouble, wouldn’t we?”

“Oh.” Realization dawned on Rey finally, and she winced when she figured it out. “Well do we know who’s robbing him?”

“No but I’m about to go down there and find out, because if there’s one thing we do, it’s fix problems that shouldn’t be caused in the first fucking place.” Kylo said, picking his phone up off the counter and shoving it in his pocket.

“Okay, you go and tell me what’s what.” Rey said, and even Gwen raised her eyebrows at that.

“Rey, come on.” She said gently.

“Jesus, you think you can fuck the brat out of her?” Kylo said to Gwen, who licked her teeth in a silent laugh.

“Kylo!” Rey’s face burned, but no one gave a shit.

“Come on, (Y/N), let’s go.” Kylo said, having done all the embarrassment he wanted to accomplish for the day. You waved a little goodbye to the women as the two of you left the townhome.

The bodega wasn’t far away at all, so the two of you decided to leave the car parked outside Rey’s house and instead of driving, you walked.

You liked holding Kylo’s hand like this, liked how your footsteps lined up with one another. Left foot right foot, left again. The weather was cool but not too cold yet, it was still too early in September for it to be too cold. You admired the way the leaves had begun to change, started to grow excited for the season to be in full swing. Kylo was deep in thought, his grip on your hand tight.

You sometimes wondered what went on inside his head, but you knew him well enough to know.

“I like Lenny.” You said, wanting to break the companionable silence.

“He’s real nice.” Kylo agreed, smoked the cigarette that he lit when the two of you started your short walk.

“Hey, look at me?” You asked, squeezing his hand in the way that tells him you’re worried. He met your eyes right away, and you gave him a little smile, saw the ghost of a dimple make an appearance. “This is our last stop, right?”

“Hopefully.” He replied, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.

You knew that meant probably not, and you chewed your lip.

“When we get home, suits off, guns away, just be with me. Okay?” You asked, and he nodded, tension sliding from his shoulders.

“Okay.” He agreed.

You brought his hand to your lips and gave his scarred knuckles a soft kiss.

“Promise?” You asked, knowing he’d never break a promise.

“I promise honey.” He said, as the two of you arrived at the bodega.

The bodega was a small unassuming little thing. Sat right on the corner, its windows were filled to the brim with signs and posters for upcoming events around the neighborhood. People passed it by and went in all day, some stopping for a cool drink and sandwich, others stocking up with groceries for the week. It was a tiny crammed store that did very very good business, which is why in the basement there were crates and crates of stolen goods and weapons under the floorboards where no one would ever suspect.

Lenny Leibowitz was a young guy, just about Kylo’s age. He had recently inherited the bodega from his father who passed last year, who had worked with the Organa family for as long as he had lived in New York. Lenny knew things, knew how things worked and was always gracious, always more than happy to comply with Kylo’s way of business.

“Mr. Ren! Thank you so much for coming, I’m so sorry to have bothered you with this.” Lenny said when the little door bell to the store rang as Kylo held the door open for you.

Lenny came around the counter to shake Kylo’s hand.

“Please, Mr. Leibowitz, I can’t express how sorry I am to have put you in this position.” Kylo said truthfully. He hated when this sort of thing happened, it reminded him of his father’s shitty business.

“Oh, it ain’t your fault, I know that. I was just a little frustrated when I called, that’s on me. I shoulda listened to my wife and cooled down before calling.” Lenny chuckled nervously.

“Wives know best, don’t they, Mr. Leibowitz?” You asked playfully, making Lenny laugh.

Kylo liked how you always put everyone at ease, his hand warm as it splayed across the small of your back.

“(Y/N)! I have something for you.” Lenny snapped his fingers as he remembered something. “Well, you and Kylo really. I know the anniversary is comin’ up soon.”

Lenny left to go to the back of the bodega, and you and Kylo just exchanged glances. He was such a fun little man, you thought.

He came back with a large bottle of very nice champagne that was wrapped with a red ribbon, and presented it to you. You took it graciously, and tucked it into the crook of your arm.

“Thank you so much, but first we’d like to talk about the robberies, if that’s alright?” You smiled patiently, Lenny remembering why you were there in the first place.

“Of course! Of course, it’s more than alright. Do you want to come see?” He asked, beckoning you back towards the back of the store where it looked like someone had knocked a ton of shit over.

“You didn’t call the cops or anything, did you?” Kylo asked, and Lenny gasped.

“The cops?” He frowned, scandalized that Kylo would even ask, “Of course not, I don’t got any use for those pigs. Besides, I don’t think they’d be happy to see this…” Lenny opened up a trap door that was hidden underneath a long mat in front of the coolers.

Inside was a view of the basement, and even from a cursory glance Kylo could tell no one had gone down there and fucked with anything.

“So they didn’t take any of it?” Kylo asked, just to be sure.

“No, only the cash from the register and some merchandise from the shelves.” Lenny gestured to the fucked up displays. “You want to take a look at the camera footage?”

Kylo nodded, reached out and grabbed a bag of chips.

“Pull it up. We’ll replace the cash, and pay for the lost goods, and give you some extra for your trouble.” He said to make up for the whole thing.

Lenny shifted his feet, averted his eyes nervously.

“Thank you Mr. Ren. The thing is, and please don’t get mad, but well…they took your monthly payment. I keep it in the register, you know? So it ain’t suspicious.” Lenny looked like he was bracing to be punched, poor thing, and if it hadn’t been his own fault, Kylo probably would have.

But, considering that he had dropped his end of the bargain by virtue of Rey not doing her fucking job, he took full responsibility for this whole fucking mishap.

“Don’t worry about it, and don’t worry about paying next month either. This never should have happened on our watch, and you were right in your message; you don’t pay us for nothing.” Kylo said, pursed his lips in that way of his where he’s trying not to scowl.

He’d really bitch at Rey about this later.

“Thank you Kylo, I really appreciate it. Hux woulda had my head for this.” Lenny sighed, making you perk up.

“Hux been bothering you?” You asked carefully, keeping your voice even.

You kept your eyes on the screen, and finally there were the guys who had robbed Lenny – big guys in ski-masks, like this was the fucking 1980s or something.

“He came around a week ago when there was a lot of shit going on, made some vague threats.” Lenny nodded, the three of you walking away from the trap door and towards the register where Kylo unrolled some bills to pay for the chips.

“What kind of threats?” You asked, making Lenny shrug.

“Oh I didn’t put any stock in any of it, just that I ‘might not be ownin’ the corner store soon, if he has his way.’ That sorta thing.”

You and Kylo didn’t have to look at each other to know that he was obviously behind this. But just to be sure,

“When did he come around?” Kylo asked, tone light.

“Wednesday?” Lenny thought out loud, “Yeah Wednesday around noon.”

“And when was the break-in?” You asked, grabbing a bottle of water from the small cooler right by the register.

Kylo dropped a couple more bills on the counter.

“Yesterday morning.” Lenny confirmed. He must’ve called right after it happened, you thought.

“Jesus, I’m sorry Lenny.” You said, “We’re gonna ask around, see if we can’t figure out who they were workin’ for.”

“You count up how much you’ll need and send me the number, I’ll get you the cash right away, send one of my boys to deliver it tomorrow first thing.” Kylo said, arm around you.

Lenny was still giving his thanks as the little bell dinged, the door closing behind you.

Just as you were about to make the short walk back to where you’d left the car, you spotted the man who matched the exact same build as the one on the security camera footage.

“Hey!” You shouted, voice commanding as it echoed down the alleyway across the street.

Without thinking, you sprinted, ran straight through traffic as cars honked and people hollered at you. Kylo was close behind, always close behind you. He stepped in front of you and shot the sonofabitch in the leg, sending him to the ground with a strangled scream. You were glad Kylo brought the silencer along with him today, glad for the horns of traffic to mask the sounds.

“Oh fuck!” The guy shouted, cried and cried and shouted some more as blood oozed from his calf, turning his jeans a dark ruddy brown.

Kylo looked both ways before kicking the nearest door down – thankfully one of the hidey holes you knew about – and dragged the guy in.

You quickly turned on the lights and locked the door as Kylo tossed the guy into the center of the room.

“Do you know who I am?” Kylo asked, crouched down to meet the guy’s eyeline.

You didn’t know why he bothered sometimes, no one ever was going to give him a straight answer, not in these sort of conditions.

Kylo didn’t care.

“No.” The guy gasped out, clutching at his leg.

The day had really taken a turn, you thought as you circled the guy, leaned against the desk just behind him.

Kylo looked up at you briefly, saw you twitch your left eyebrow.

_Lying. _

“Don’t waste my time any more than you already have. I don’t like to repeat myself.” Kylo said evenly, as the guy started going into shock.

“We ain’t gonna hurt you if you just tell us the truth.” You offered from your spot on the desk, not wanting to get blood on your new shoes.

“Christ, there’s a fucking bullet in my leg – bit late for that.” The guy said.

You frowned, he had an accent, an English accent.

What was Hux doing with English guys?

“Do you know who I am?” Kylo asked, starting to lose his patience.

He stood up and planted his shiny dress shoe right over the bullet wound in the schmuck’s leg.

He screamed out in pain, and Kylo only pressed down harder, harder and harder the longer the guy stayed silent.

“Kylo Ren! Fuck, you’re Kylo fucking Ren.” He sobbed, shouted out loud.

Good thing the room was soundproofed, you thought.

“You know who you robbed?” Kylo asked, chillingly calm.

“Huh? I didn’t rob nobody!” The man shouted, blood starting to drip all over the floor.

Kylo didn’t need to look at you to know that that one was a lie.

“Let me jog your memory.” He offered, cocking the gun.

“Fuck okay! Okay! It was the corner store, we were told – ”

“Who’s ‘we’ and told by who?” Kylo demanded, voice stern.

“I don’t know! I don’t know who told us to! I swear.” The man sobbed, but you knew better.

_Lying._

“That’s bullshit.” Kylo glanced at you and shook his head at the guy, stomped hard enough on his leg for the bone to crack.

Kylo took a deep breath as he gave the guy some time to scream.

He looked at you and you shrugged, trying to convey something close to _this fuckin’ guy, amirite? _

“Okay okay okay – ” The man collected himself, snot and tears dripping from his face. “Okay! It was me and my buddies, we got cornered on the street by a man in a black car, he asked if we wanted to make a quick buck. It was too dark, we couldn’t see – ”

“Who?” Kylo asked, making the guy go frantic.

“I don’t know!” He shouted, cried, blood all over the place.

“Did he have an accent?” You asked from your spot on the desk.

“I don’t remember!” The man was coughing now, hacking. You thought it was a little dramatic, but you believed him.

_Truth. _

“What’d they tell you to steal?” Kylo asked, and this he did seem to know, practically tripped over himself to answer this one.

“That’s the thing, they didn’t tell us to steal anything specific, just whatever we wanted.” He coughed, “Never been paid to just rob someone like that before, please don’t kill me, please.”

“I’m not going to kill you.” Kylo lied, making you smile just a little. “Where and when were you cornered?”

“Down by the east river, on Monday.” The man said, making you frown.

Hux wouldn’t have been down by the East River, not Monday. You knew this, because all day Monday he was in Washington D.C., having meetings with some senators he knew. Which begged the question, if it wasn’t Hux, who was it?

Kylo thought the same thing, and for a moment the two of you paid no attention to the man writhing on the ground in between you. You wracked your brain, tried to think – out of everyone, all the families, who would want to hire some no-name guy to rob Lenny? It was clearly just to send a message, but in that moment, you couldn’t figure out who wanted to send it.

“And you’re sure you didn’t see who?” You asked, making the guy nod frantically.

“I’m sure! I swear.” The guy begged, and Kylo looked up at you.

After a moment, you twitched your right eyebrow from your spot on the desk.

_Truth. _

“Then you’re of no use to me.” Kylo sighed, pulled his trigger and silenced the man’s screaming for good.

You checked Kylo for blood, thankfully found that he had managed to stay clean this time, just some red staining the bottom of his shoes where he had stepped on the man’s leg. You both looked at him and you tsked just a little. You’d call the clean-up guys later.

For now, you needed to think, except you didn’t want to do it here.

“Can we go home?” You asked, and he kissed the top of your head.

“I’m going to drop you off.” He said, making you whine.

“Kylo, you promised.” You reminded him, but he shook his head.

“I know honey, I know. But I need to talk to some people.” You could see the wheels turning in his head, could see him looking through years and years of business deals, trying to figure out who he had pissed off this time.

“Let me come with you then.” You tried, but he shook his head.

“No, this is gonna get ugly.” He was resolute, and you sighed.

* * *

The walk back to Rey’s was quiet, and the drive back was even quieter. You weren’t upset, not at Kylo. You just didn’t like being left out.

You didn’t like how he got when you weren’t there.

He was always slightly less controlled, more anxious. More prone to do something stupid.

The hand on your thigh was warm the whole way home, and when he pulled up in front of the apartment entrance, you held it in your hand.

“Bring me back something?” You asked, puckering your lips for a kiss.

“Always do.” Kylo replied, because he was good, and he did. He leaned in to kiss you sweetly once, twice, three times, finally getting you to smile.

“I’ll have dinner waiting for you when you come home, okay?” You squeezed his hand, and he nodded.

He got out of the car and opened the door for you, waited until the doorman opened the lobby doors for you and you were safely inside before he drove away.

The apartment was big and empty, just like it always was when he wasn’t home.

You changed into comfortable clothes, lounge pants and a sweatshirt, feet in Kylo’s favorite pair of slippers. You loved how cozy they were, so you stole them constantly when you could get away with it.

You started dinner right away, figured that would give you something to do and something to keep your hands busy so you weren’t just sitting around waiting for him.

You’d sit around and wait for him though, if you had to. As long as he came back to you, you’d wait as long as you needed.

Instead though, you asked your Alexa to play some music, let it waft through the Bluetooth speakers all around the house. It made it less lonely that way. You wondered where Kylo was going, who he was meeting with. He’d tell you when he came back, you knew that, but the way he had left in such a hurry had you worried. You wondered what he was going to bring back for you.

He always brought back a little prize, a token, if you will. There was an entire shelf in the office dedicated to all Kylo’s kills, bits and bobs he had stolen from the scene, things immediately recognizable and yet completely ordinary at the same time.

You thought about it as you surveyed the fridge. You’d been planning on cooking him a nice big dinner tomorrow for the anniversary, but you figured now was as good a time as any. He’d need it now.

Lobster wasn’t terribly difficult to cook, neither was shrimp. The recipe also didn’t exactly take a long time either, so you focused on making a perfect risotto, which did take a lot of time and finessing to get just right.

You also started dicing vegetables for a soup to serve with dinner, taking your time to wash, peel, dice and slice everything into perfectly even sizes, perfect little bites. Kylo hated irregularity like that, hated sloppiness.

You did too, so you took your time.

You had just gotten over the sting of dicing onions where there was a soft thud at the door.

You froze, checked the clock. It was too soon for Kylo to be back, it had only been an hour since you started prepping dinner. He was never back that soon, and you didn’t call for anyone, so you held your breath as you creeped towards the door, chef’s knife in hand.

You tip-toed, didn’t make a fucking sound, mind racing.

This is the exact sort of reason why Kylo didn’t like you being far away from him, the exact reason _you_ didn’t like being far away from him.

You covered your mouth so whoever was on the other side of the door couldn’t hear, and looked up at the peep hole…sighing with relief when the man on the other side turned out to be one of your own.

Six, one of the older members of the KoR was keeping watch, likely was sent by Kylo, and you chuckled to yourself at your reaction to the whole thing.

You undid all seven locks, peeked your head through the door.

“Good evening Mrs. Ren.” Six gave you a gold-toothed smile, and you smiled back.

You spent more time with Knuckles and Slip, but Six was always kind and respectful towards you. You liked him very much, and felt sorry for thinking about stabbing him to death in the moment.

“You scared me Six.” You laughed softly, held up the big knife that you’d been using to chop onions.

“Did I?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You were notoriously hard to scare.

“No, not really.” You admitted, having been more annoyed than anything. You frowned suddenly, realizing the time “Wait here?”

“Of course.” Six replied, with you thought was funny, because really, where would he go?

You went inside and quickly brewed up a cup of tea, grabbed a few cookies and put them on a small plate for him. You added milk and honey and sugar to the tea, even put it in one of the bigger mugs, and returned to the front door.

“Here.” You held out the mug and small plate with a smile. You figured if he was supposed to be here for any amount of time standing outside your door, the absolute least you could do was make him as comfortable as he could be.

“I can’t accept this, (Y/N).” Six said at first, ever the gentleman, not wanting to piss Kylo off inadvertently somehow.

“Yes you can.” You winked, nudged the mug into his hand.

He gratefully accepted it, sipped the tea and sighed happily.

“Thank you ma’am.” He replied, and you could tell he was grateful.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” You asked, hoping that Kylo had maybe given Six a time-frame of sorts.

But Six just shook his head, and your hopes fell just a little.

“I’m supposed to be here all night.” He explained, and you nodded.

“Are you sure you won’t come in and keep me company? I don’t want you to be bored.” You offered, knowing that was absolutely against the rules, but wanting to ask anyway. It only seemed like the polite thing to do.

“I’ve got my book, I’ll be alright.” Six declined respectfully, like he should, and you nodded.

“Let me know when you’d like more.” You said, pointing to the mug.

“Good night Mrs Ren.” Six replied, and you smiled, returning inside and locking the door behind you.

You finished dinner and ate it, sat at the long long dining table alone. You kept your gaze cast out the window, watched and waited for Kylo’s car to pull up.

When it finally did, some hours later, you rushed into action.

You’re used to it by now, the sight of him covered in blood.

He’s careful, always so careful, to not let any drip onto the floors, onto the carpeting. He hates seeing the stains, hates having to hire cleaners to get them out. But he’s dripping now, too out of it to really know what he’s doing, body on autopilot as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“Clothes off honey.” You motioned for him to step near you, onto the protective plastic sheet you liked to put down when he’s like this.

You’re already there, sitting on the counter of the lavish master bath waiting for him. You’ve got the first-aid kit by your side on the large marble countertop, bandages and things for stitches and all sorts of anti-bacterials and anti-septics and anti-who-knows-what-else.

Well, you know.

You’re used to it. 

“Help?” He asked, only able to do so much in his current state.

You nod right away, help peel him out of the suit he had picked out today, a day that felt a lifetime ago. It’s Armani this one, vintage. You bought it for him for his thirty-fifth birthday last year, got it specially tailored to fit his wide shoulders. You inspected it for bullet holes or stab wounds, and were so relieved to find none.

Once he was down to his white tank top and boxers in front of you, you brought your hands to cup his face ever so gently.

“Show me?” You kiss his lips just the tiniest bit, voice soft.

You made sure to be soft, gentle with him when he came back to you like this. He needed that, that calm. There was always so much yelling and chaos whenever Kylo had to take care of someone, so much screaming. You’d seen it yourself on the occasions where he’d brought you with him. Never from him of course; he had always been unusually quiet, Snoke had always said so.

Snoke was gone, but that didn’t matter.

What mattered was Kylo was there with you now, stepping even closer between your legs, blood dripping onto your thigh.

“Just here,” He lifted his hands up, showing you his busted knuckles.

Someone else’s this time, thank god, you thought looking up at his blood-splattered face.

“Rinse and spit.” You hand him a glass of mouthwash, knowing he’s got blood staining his teeth and wanting it out of his mouth.

He did as he was told, as you told him to.

Kylo was definitely a puncher, you thought with a smile as you carefully picked up the warm wash-cloth from a bowl of soapy water and wiped him down, first tending to his face to just get the shit off of him. He’d need a proper shower to get the blood out of his hair, it was sticking and making those beautiful raven locks of his go piecey, but you just wanted him to be able to look normal first.

“Did you have fun?” You asked, your way of asking if the job was a success.

He nodded, and you smiled again, wringing out the washcloth and getting the last of the blood off his face.

“Good, I’ve made your favorite dinner.” You said, tucking some of the sticky hair away from his face. “It’s waiting for you downstairs after we have a shower.”

“Thanks honey, I’m starving.” He said, leaning in to kiss your cheek softly. The thought of dinner alone made his stomach growl loudly, and that was the first time you saw him crack a real smile all day.

“Remember when you used to do this alone?” You asked, finally addressing his knuckles. 

They really weren’t as bad as they normally are when he comes home to you like this, tonight they’re only split open, but not down to the bone or anything. He must have just shot the guy more than necessary to get the kind of spattering that he had.

“Yeah it’s why I’ve got this fucking scar, botched stitches job.” He quirked another smile – two in one night, what a rarity!

“Mhm, and now you’ve got me to make them nice and even for you.” You grinned up at him, dabbing the knuckles with alcohol and ointment to make sure they don’t get infected. Kylo didn’t even flinch when you wrapped them up in the bandages, either too numb or too used to it, you couldn’t tell.

“You make everything better.” He said, ducking his head to kiss you.

You kissed him back, let him crowd against you, hands roaming your back, holding you so close. Your hands went to his hair instinctively, forgetting for half a moment that it was still sticky with blood. You didn’t mind so much, now that you were sure it wasn’t coming from anywhere on him.

Kylo kissed and kissed you, starving yes, but for you, for your touch. He made soft sounds in the back of his throat, either a whine or a grunt you weren’t sure. He stole your breath away, noses bumping together as the kiss deepened and he held you just tight enough to make you gasp a little into his mouth.

When he had his fill – for now anyway – he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“I don’t like staying here while you go out.” You said softly, toying with the silver star that sat right in the pit of his throat.

“I know.” He said back, leaning in to kiss you softly once more before stepping back and turning the shower on, letting the water heat up.

The two of you stepped under the spray and the water ran rusty red as he ducked his head, as you scrubbed shampoo that foamed up pink in your hands.

“It was very mean of you to leave me all alone.” You said as he rinsed, his hands on your slippery body, wanting to touch you, needing to be close to you.

“You weren’t alone, I had Six stand outside and keep watch.” Kylo offered, and you hummed.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” You said, and Kylo licked his lips, swallowed.

“You gonna punish me?” He asked.

He was hopeful.

You smiled.

“Yeah, once I get you cleaned up.” You said, and you loved the way blush blossomed on his chest, loved the way his cock twitched for you.

You didn’t bother getting dressed, not yet. Not when you knew you were going to make him slick with sweat, not when you were probably going to need another shower at the end of all of it.

He was standing straight, shoulders square, perfect for you. He wanted to be perfect for you, wanted to give you everything.

“I shouldn’t let you fuck me at all.” You said lightly, brushing your hands over his chest, your thumb catching his tiny nipples, pecs so strong and defined you could squeeze them. You did.

“Please – ”

“Shh, shh it’s okay honey.” You cup his cheek, kiss him sweetly. “None of that yet.”

You’d make him beg for you, in due time.

“Suck.” You held your fingers up to his mouth, and he obliges, wraps his tongue around your digits, kisses and sucks and wets them until they’re sticky and glistening.

You crawled on the bed, Kylo’s eyes glued to you, his cock heavy and thick between his legs, tip so red that you knew he was going to start leaking soon, dripping all over himself.

Good, you thought, and you settled on your back, propped your hips up and spread your legs so he could see your cunt from where he stood, see how wet it was, drooling for him.

“You wanna know what happens when you leave me here?” You asked, and you close your eyes, knows he’s watching you.

He’s always watching, and for once, he can’t touch. Can’t touch himself – can’t touch you.

He whimpers as you slide your fingers down to your pussy, swallows hard as he watches your legs drop open ever more as you softly moan out your pleasure. It’s exaggerated for his benefit, for the show of all of this, but he doesn’t care. His hands are balling into fists at his side, cock angry for you.

But this is a punishment, and he knows if he’s good and does as you tell him, it won’t be so bad in the end, even if it’s silent torture now.

“Not very nice to leave a girl all alone, leave her to take care of herself.” You said, back arching as you thrust your fingers in and out as best you can from this angle. “Come here, come look what you make me do.”

He jumps at the chance, quickly climbs onto the bed and settles himself inches away from your cunt, rests his head on your thigh as he bites at his lip, desperately wanting to fill you. He knows he can do a better job than your fingers can, his are thicker, longer, he knows he can make you feel better but you haven’t said it, haven’t said he can touch you yet, so he waits, in agony.

“Apologize.” You softly order around a gasp as your thighs twitch, and Kylo’s rushing to get the words out.

“I’m sorry, I won’t leave you alone again, please, can I? Let me?” He’s so desperate, and it never ceases to amaze you, how someone so big and strong and tough can be so quiet, so gentle, so desperate.

You drag it out a little longer.

“Why should I?” You asked, rubbing at your clit and making Kylo crazy, making his vision start to go spotty just from the concentration he has on your pussy.

You can feel his cock weeping for you as you moan.

“I’ll make it nice, you know I will, please (Y/N) I will.” Kylo begged, eyes wide and round and brown, so full of love and hope and pleading that you smile, nod.

“Make me come on your fingers.” You withdraw your hand and Kylo immediately takes its place.

There really is nothing like getting fingered by your man, you can’t help but think, before those magic fingers work their magic, and you can’t think much of anything at all.

He knows exactly where to touch you, exactly how to draw which sounds from your throat, and you let him, and he’s grateful in every fiber of his being that you let him.

“That’s it – oh! You’re so good Kylo, so good honey.” You praise him, partly because it’s true, but partly because you know how it helps, know how it makes him feel on fire.

“Let me fuck you? Please, I’m dying – please (Y/N).” He pants into the crook of your neck, and you nod, not wanting to deny him anything for the rest of the night.

He’s earned this, earned at least this much.

“Of course honey, come on.” You give him the permission he craves, and he sucks your juices off his fingers like he doesn’t give a shit about the lobster downstairs, like this is his favorite meal. For all you know, it is. You kiss him, smudge the words into his skin, “Let it all out, it’s okay.”

“Thank you thank you thank you – ” He could cry from relief when he finally gets his cock in you, you’re nice and stretched from his fingers, pliant and hot and wet from his touch.

He’s rough with you, because he has to be, because he needs to be otherwise he’ll snap. You take it, take him so well, made for him, made for his cock. You come again, just because he knows exactly where that spot inside you lives, knows exactly how hard and fast to hit it with his dick, and you’re seeing stars in minutes.

You know he’s not going to last, not with how wound up he was, even before all your teasing and ordering around. But he doesn’t need to, because this isn’t about him lasting all night, this is about him getting the instant gratification of a job well done – because in the end, it was.

He fucks you hungrily, hips snapping against yours, his arms wrapped tight around your hips, pulling you and fucking you down onto his cock, angry angry angry, pent up aggression from the day, from the job, spilling into you as he comes.

“Thank you, I’m sorry.” He kisses your skin, kisses your chest as his hips move even still, as he’s whimpering into your breasts as he milks his orgasm for everything he can.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” You pet his hair back, you kiss the top of his head. “You did so well, I love you more than anything.” You tell him, and he nods, hips finally stilling against you.

He sags and sighs, panting, so out of breath, your man.

The praise sings through him, and you can feel more come push into you, worried now that when you sit up it’ll all spill out, all over the sheets and the floor.

You card your fingers through his hair, and his stomach growls in the quiet.

“We need to eat dinner.” You remind him, and for the first time in a long time, he laughed.


	3. Anniversary (Pt. 1)

The next morning, you woke up with a smile on your face.

Yesterday had been stressful, but what was a little stress every now and then? It was late, much later than you expected – already nearing eight o’clock, and your husband was still snoring heavily next to you.

Your _husband_, you thought as your smile grew ever wider.

You stretched out as best you could, those arms of his tightening around you on instinct, still asleep and yet not wanting you anywhere else than right right right next to him. The two of you were facing one another, and he had wound his arms and legs around you in the middle of the night, after a full reheated dinner and a glass or two of wine.

You simply looked at him for a little while, admired him. 

God Kylo was so handsome, you couldn’t help but think. So incredibly, beautifully formed. From the slope of his nose to the plush fullness of his lips, even those thick eyebrows and big ears – all of it perfectly crafted. He mumbled to himself, low baritone in a register you couldn’t make out, hot breath on your face as he shifted against you, pressed his hard cock against your thigh.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes fondly, ever so in love, as you reached a hand up to trace the bridge of his nose again and again, back and forth, little strokes that had him snuffling awake.

“Honey,” You whispered, smooching the spot where his dimples were hidden by a morning scowl.

“Mhm?” Kylo asked, rolling you both over so you were propping your chin up on his chest, beaming up at him.

“Guess what day it is?” You grinned, and he smiled for you, quirked the shyest little smile that had you nearly giddy. 

He knew you loved to see him smile, was making more of an effort to do it for you, let himself do it for the both of you.

“I don’t have to guess.” He murmured, craning his neck to kiss you, loosening his hold just enough for you to shimmy down down down his body, settle yourself level with his cock.

“What are you doing all the way down there?” He asked with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Giving you a good morning.” You said simply, running your fingers through his unruly pubic hair, teasing that cock of his with just the barest ghost of your fingers.

He licked his lips, and you chuckled just a little at how easy it was to rile him up, how easy it was to get him going.

You gave him more – more friction, more pressure, more speed as you jerked him off. He flushed beautifully, handsome handsome handsome, cock thick and curved and twitching, the most beautiful noises slipping out from between Kylo’s lips at the touch of it. 

But that wasn’t enough, both of you knew it wouldn’t be, and you had to get yourself to stop smiling so you could suck him off, hollowing your cheeks around his length.

“Shit,” He groaned, a hand coming down to tangle with your hair, press you closer to the base of his cock, get your nose right up against his skin so you could smell the musk of him. “(Y/N), shit, _yes_.” He grunted and groaned at the feeling of you around him.

Sucking this dick had taken so long, so much time, so much practice to get right, but once you had, it was a skill you were immensely proud of. Kylo’s cock was huge, unfairly long and too wide, nearly too wide to get down your throat.

But you were nothing if not a champ, and over the years of fucking you figured it out, figured out how to make him cry, how to reduce him down to a babbling mess when you wanted.

You didn’t want that right now, just wanted to make him feel real good, so you gave the best blowjob you could, his fist tight in your hair, breathing heavy up the mattress.

“Stop, please – I want to come in you.” He whined, and you pulled off of him real slow as you gripped the base of his shaft so he wouldn’t accidentally blow it, let him watch his cock slide out of your mouth, seemingly never-ending.

It was flushed so red, cut tip flared beautifully – handsome, just like the rest of him. It oozed and dripped pre-come for you, steady and sticky and absolutely delicious. You just had to lick a broad stripe up the shaft, just had to make him moan for you.

With one fluid motion, you climbed back up the bed, straddled his hips. His hands immediately grasped your waist, dug into the flesh there with white-knuckle tension, bruising tension, held you as you sunk down on his length with lots of breathy little moans that had his chest flushing red in bright splotches of arousal.

Normally you would have liked some preparation for this, for this monster he had, fingering or eating you out or _something _because he was just too much to handle on a normal day. Somehow you got him all in you, and you had to brace yourself on his chest, huffing and puffing like you won the marathon, like you just climbed a mountain – mounting this man.

“Fuck, god you’re so fucking big, you know that?” You moaned, rolling your hips, back and forth like the steady rhythm of crashing waves in the ocean.

His hands traveled up and up and up your body, pushing and pulling at your tits, wrapping around your neck and holding you there, caressing you, as you fucked yourself on his cock, clenching tight around him, making him stutter out a big groan that you felt in his chest from where your hands were steadying yourself.

“Yeah – good?” He was fully awake now, big brown eyes wide open and glittering honey golden with the sunshine streaming in.

“Real good honey oh _fuck _– Kylo!” You yelped with a laugh when he wrestled with you suddenly, wrangling you on your back so he could plow into you.

He huffed a short laugh out too, before he started sucking on your neck, pinching your nipples, making you come and come and come on his cock. 

You moaned and sighed and gasped for him, eyes shutting tight as your whole body went electric, went on fire.

Kylo’s hips stilled against you after another couple of minutes, and he came, and you pinched his nose playfully.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” You teased, meaning the switching of positions.

“But it’s our anniversary.” He tried, and you conceded, shook your head with fondness and kissed him for a little bit.

You kissed until your breathing had both evened out, until all the relaxation and bliss had started to wear off, until the cramps and the full bladder and itchy cooling sweat started to kick in.

He pulled out of you, made sure none of his come leaked, and let you finally for the first time that morning, stretch.

“What do you want to do today?” He asked, watching you with somehow still hungry eyes, eyes that scanned down your body, eyes that told you you’d really be in for it today.

You thought about what you wanted while he drank in the sight of you. You knew he had something planned for that evening, he always had something planned. Even on a regular day, not an anniversary, just because he wanted to, had something planned.

But that wouldn’t be until tonight. He gave you free control of the day, on days like this. And as the sun shone through the huge open windows of the bedroom, you remembered your thought from a while back.

“Can we go swimming, please?” You asked, resting your head on his calf where he had his ankles crossed on the mattress, “The sun is out for the first time all month.”

“Are you going to wear a bathing suit?” He asked, making you laugh.

“I don’t have to.” You waggled an eyebrow, and you swore you saw his cock twitch.

“Let’s go swimming.” He said, as if it were the greatest idea he had ever heard, making you laugh again.

* * *

The apartment never failed to impress you. When you and Kylo had begun looking for a place to call home, a permanent residence in the city right after you married one another, he had been pretty hands-off for the whole thing. He trusted you, he loved you, and frankly he didn’t give a shit where he lived, as long as it was with you, which meant you got free reign for everything from the amenities to the furnishings.

One of the reasons you picked the huge three-story penthouse, was because of the roof-top terrace and pool that was private access, just for you and him.

In the summer-time the pool was kept nice and cool, and in the autumn the heater was turned on so it could still be enjoyed before the frigid winters shut the party down. And oh what a party you did have, just the two of you, all the time.

You had a custom-built cabana made for lounging, fucking, eating, whatever else you two wanted to do, in addition to a full kitchen and an entertainment system. Usually you just asked your smart home devices to play music soft enough that only you could hear, but it had the power to drown out all the noise of the city if you wanted it that loud. The skyline around you was stunning, and whenever the two of you came out there at night, it often felt like you were on top of the world with all the lights on display.

Kylo had just tugged a clean pair of boxers on, and you remained naked – albeit wiped down and cleaned up for the day – as you re-dressed his broken knuckles before going up your private elevator to the roof.

The weather was perfect, one of the very rare days in the city where it wasn’t blisteringly hot or freezing cold, wasn’t rainy or cloudy, just a perfect blue sky and shining sun, a soft breeze rippling the water of the deep blue pool.

“Put lotion on me?” You asked eagerly, not wanting to burn.

“Sit on my lap.” Kylo nodded, settled himself down on one of the comfortable lounge chairs.

You went happily, handed him the spf and let his hands work their magic.

In moments like this, you could feel how much he worshipped you, could feel the adoration and care he pressed into your skin with each pass of his big hands. He rubbed and massaged your skin, patiently and evenly applying the sunscreen – always so patient, so thorough.

He was silent as he did it, only tapping your shoulder to tell you to turn around when he had covered every square inch of your back and arms. His brow pinched in concentration as he rubbed your front down, taking extra care with your face, huge fingers trying their best to be delicate. 

How ironic, you thought, this gentleness, this delicacy, from a man who could snap you right in two.

It thrilled you, made your heart soar that you had the love and trust of this man, your man. 

“Want me to get you?” You asked quietly, but he just blushed right to the tips of his ears.

“No.” He murmured, swirling lotion to your thighs, to your stomach. Intense concentration, trying to hide his erection.

He was unbelievable, you thought with a big, knowing grin.

“Aren’t you going to come in?” You asked, arching into his touch, making a show of it.

“Not yet, I want to watch you a little bit first.” He swallowed hard, finally finishing and leaning back against the chaise.

“Ohh are you gonna jerk off?” You raised an eyebrow, let your fingers walk down his chest.

“Maybe.” He blushed, and _bingo_.

You hauled him up off the chaise, dragged him to the edge of the pool.

The water glistened and shone in bright sparkles from the sun, and you desperately wanted to see him soaking wet and tanned, such a rare treat that you didn’t get to often enjoy. You loved the way the light glinted off of the star around his neck, loved the way it brought out his freckles and darkened his beauty spots, loved the way it warmed his hair and enriched the chocolatey brown color you thought so striking.

“Maybe maybe maybe, hmm. I thought I was more inspiring than just a maybe.” You pouted, looped your arms around his shoulders, went dangerously close to his lips, nipples brushing his chest ever so slightly.

He groaned and his hands found themselves removing your arms, wanting nothing more than to kiss and kiss and kiss your palms, your knuckles, press them against his face adoringly with a quiet, smoldering gaze.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re trouble?” He asked, voice so so so deep, always so deep.

“Once or twice.” You winked, “They didn’t live very long afterwards.”

“Oh yeah? What happened to them?” Kylo’s teeth grazed the meat of your palm, and you shuddered under his touch.

“A ferocious villain by the name of Kylo killed them.” You mused, making him smile against your hands, making him collect you up in his arms, give you a smooch. “Are you taking me anywhere tonight?”

“Maybe.” He said playfully, with a great big shy smile, and you tugged on his ear.

“You give me one more ‘maybe’ and I won’t let you come for a week.” You teased, making him plant big wet sloppy kisses to your neck and cheek.

“It’s a surprise.” He conceded, and you immediately lit up.

“Are we going out of the country?” You searched his eyes, and he knew, he _knew _he couldn’t lie to you, there’s no way he’d get away with it, so he just rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Not tonight, but soon.” He admitted, and you squealed. You’d been dying to get out of the country for a little while, dying to visit your favorite of the vacation houses Kylo owned.

“Give me a kiss?” Kylo asked, and you complied happily, eagerly, let yourself get swept up in his arms and twirled around for a moment or two – 

Before he dropped you, dumped you right in the pool with a big hearty laugh that had you too in love to even be mad about.

“I’m going to kill you!” You righted yourself, laughed at the sudden feeling of being airborne, the heated water kissing your skin, at his cheeky fucking grin as he settled himself back down in the cabana.

“You can’t, I’m all the way over here.” He said simply, making you smack the water so it would be sure to splash him, even all the way over there.

* * *

You swam leisurely, alternating between laps and just floating, letting the sun warm and kiss your skin. You could feel Kylo watching you, feel his eyes on you as you went back and forth. At one point he did jerk off, lazily stroking his cock to the sight of your soaking wet curves, hair clinging to you, your teasing smile goading him on.

He got antsy, being away from you for too long.

Even though you were barely ten feet away from him, he still felt the need to be closer. Always close, needed to keep an eye on you, a hand on you. After he came and cleaned himself up, he laid down right on the tile of the edge of the pool, laid down and let one hand dangle over the edge, conscious of the bandages. You swam right up, half hidden beneath the water, and gently clasped his hand in your own, pressed a wet kiss to his wrist.

You could be mean and yank him into the pool, but he looked so good just lying there, looked like some Adonis with all the muscles in his back and shoulders, strong and sturdy and on display for you. You both simply enjoyed one another’s presence, you floating on your back, and him laying on his stomach.

You wondered what you’d look like, should a plane or a helicopter or an astronaut pass you by. Would they see a mob boss and his wife, would they see the scars and marks that littered your bodies? Would they see the weight of the world he carried on his shoulders, the body count that trailed him wherever he went?

Or would they see two lovers, floating in time and space, content to hold hands on the edge of a pool?

You smiled at him, and he blinked slowly at you, some big great cat. If he could, he probably would be purring.

“I’m fucking starving, can we order in food?” You whispered, just reveling in the closeness, the softness with him.

“No.” He joked, deadpan, leaned over to kiss the saltwater right off your lips.

“What do you want, French?” You asked, and he nodded, gears turning in his head for a minute or two.

“The crepes that are stuffed with that filling I like.” He decided, and you laughed.

“The chicken portabella?” It was barely ten o’clock in the morning, and he knew that.

“Yeah.” He said, humming as he kissed you some more.

“Honey that’s dinner, I don’t think they’ll serve them this early.” You splashed a little bit of water onto him, just the smallest bit that you watched evaporate right off his sun-drenched skin.

“They will for me.” He said, quirking an eyebrow in that smug way of his.

“Alright then, you call them, big shot.” You shook your head fondly, letting go of his hand to push yourself out of the pool. “I’m going to rinse off.”

“Wait I’ll come with you.” Kylo said suddenly, quiet desperation always in the back of his throat.

You padded over to the cabana, plucked a soft fluffy towel from the rack and used it to dry off enough so that you wouldn’t be dripping all over the apartment.

“You didn’t get in the water.” You pointed out, rubbing your hair dry, all exposed for him, only for him to see.

“I know.” He said, and his eyes darkened with lust that you wouldn’t, couldn’t deny.

* * *

After a quickie in the shower that left you both breathless, and wrapping yourselves up in robes that were soft and luxurious, you and Kylo found yourselves with growling stomachs in the living room, laying on top of one another comfortably on the grand sectional.

Kylo was scrolling through his contacts until he finally found the man he was looking for, and dialed it, holding it up to one of his big ears.

“Slip? Hey can you please do me a favor and run down to that bistro we like for me real quick…?” Kylo asked, making you smile.

He always did that, phrased things like that, when he was talking to his own guys. Could you, would you, Please and thank yous, ever the gentleman, ever the most polite. He had manners, and even though these guys had sworn a blood oath to Kylo, even though they pledged their lives to him, would never refuse him, he still asked.

“Hi Slip!” You called happily into the receiver.

“The missus says hi – he says hi back – oh did you get the numbers from Lenny? Good, go take some cash down to his place since you’ll be over there. Ask the bistro to make us some breakfast, tell them who it’s for, they’ll remember the order. Thanks.” Kylo listened when Slip spoke, talked when it was his turn, nodding to himself as the wheels went around and around in his head.

He didn’t like talking on the phone, but he hated texting more – said his fingers were too big for the buttons. He tossed the phone just out of arm’s reach, and you wriggled out of his grasp for a minute, walking over to the massive dvd collection that was stored in the theater room next door. 

“Can we re-watch the video while we wait?” You asked, already rifling through the personal home video section.

“Sure thing honey.” He said, fondness in those soulful eyes of his as you returned, waving a plastic case in your hand with a great big smile.

Your wedding had been, in a word, legendary.

It was the largest wedding any of the families had ever seen, ever attended, ever held. Combining two of the largest crime families in New York City was bound to be spectacular, just by the sheer amount of people that had to be invited, but your parents really spared no expense. Your union had been something that the families had been looking forward to for years and years, finally getting the chance to celebrate.

Absolutely everyone was invited – it wouldn’t do to leave someone out and offend them. All the families got invitations, all the friends of the families, all the friends of the friends. You started to get teary eyed, reliving the beauty of the moment, watching Kylo stand with such a straight back, such squared shoulders, fists clenched in front of him from nerves, ears sticking out from where he had combed his hair back, kippah pinned in place.

“Three whole years, can you believe it?” You asked, watching yourself walk down the aisle to the chuppah, a train so long and heavy that three people had to lift it, and you smiled wetly, resting your head on Kylo’s shoulder as you took your place next to him. 

“No.” Kylo murmured, his hand giving yours an affectionate squeeze, “Feels like a lot longer than that.”

You smiled, because you felt the same.

“It kinda has been, hasn’t it?” You asked, not taking your eyes away from Uncle Luke, as he read out the long passages on screen, “It has for me, anyway.”

The Organa family had always been very good friends the Serenno family. Since the time of Kylo’s grandfather – back when the family still held the Skywalker name – and your grandfather came to America in search for freedom, for life, for opportunity. But it wasn’t just for business they forged a friendship over, it was for company, for being two sides of the same coin, in a way.

Anakin and Serenno, often referred to as Vader and The Count, built themselves up from nothing, built the strongest, biggest, most untouchable Jewish crime families the city had ever seen. They had friends and enemies all over, but everyone knew them, and they knew everyone. That was still true today, you found.

By the time you were born, all those decades later, the families had only grown stronger together. Every birthday, wedding, holiday, Friday night, everyone got together. You only hung out with each other, only went on vacation with each other. Growing up, you thought that there weren’t any other people in all of New York aside from your family and the Skywalkers, the Organas.

Serenno had four children, all boys. Each of those boys had four children as well, and you were the youngest, making you the absolute princess of the family. You were also one of only two girls, you and Gwen. While you had opted out from being a part of any business deals, you were always around, because of course you were. 

Always observant, always watching. 

Even from a young age you could spot a liar like no one in your family could, so you were often a valuable asset to just being in the room with rats or cheats.

Kylo was a few years older than you, and he was also always around. Growing up, the two of you often found yourselves sitting next to each other at the kid’s table, laughing and talking and eating together, dancing together. He was your friend, had always been your friend – your best friend.

“I’ve loved you since the first time I ever met you.” He said, breaking you out of your thoughts, as you watched a younger version of your husband stomp on a glass, eliciting a big round of applause.

“You were five, and I was an infant.” You pointed out, making him scowl at you.

“Don’t be a brat, you know what I mean.” He tucked you closer to him, rested his head on top of yours.

Kylo first met you at your simchat bat, when you were literally just a newborn. He had been dragged by his parents to come meet you and pay respects to the family so he was incredibly grumpy, but you had absolutely no recollection of the event, all things considered. You knew there were photographs in the family archives somewhere, and one of these days you planned on embarrassing the hell out of Kylo by finding them.

But as it was, you were feeling extra lovey-dovey, and you batted your eyelashes up at him, smooching the beauty spot on the underside of his chin.

“When was the first time you thought about marrying me?” You asked again, and Kylo surprised you by answering right away.

“When you danced with me at my bar mitzvah.” He hummed, and the doorbell rang.

You waited on the couch for Kylo to go to the door, grab the breakfast from Slip and then close the door again, waiting for him to put everything on display for you, the crepes, the pastries, the coffee in those fancy biodegradable to-go cups.

“Remember how I was as tall as you then?” You teased, “And stronger? And smarter?”

Kylo rolled his eyes, cut into his chicken and mushroom crepe that absolutely must have been a bitch to make.

“Not my fault you had your growth spurt before I had mine. And you were in tall shoes.” Kylo muttered around a mouthful of breakfast, and you laughed brightly at how he was still sore about it, twenty-two years later.

“You tower over everyone now, I hardly think it matters much.” You pointed out, digging into your own breakfast with a ravenous excitement.

“When you danced with me I thought about how it was so much like dancing at a wedding, but I don’t think I even really knew what that meant then, why I wanted to protect you so much, why I wanted to hang out with you all the time.” He said quietly, and you listened, listened with every fiber of your being. 

Declarations like these did not come frequently from Kylo. 

“You’ve always been so smart, so capable. That day you beat the shit out of those gutter kids for calling you a…well, I don’t have to tell you what they called you. But that was the moment I knew you were different from everyone else, anyone else I had ever met.” He continued, “I wanted you to like me, desperately, wanted you to laugh at my jokes and think I was cool. I wanted you to love me like I loved you.”

“I grew up loving you.” You said, when it felt like he was done. “I don’t know what it feels like to not be in love with you – even before I knew what being in love really was. Sometimes I wonder what might have happened if you never left.”

When the two of you grew up, you became closer than ever. Not quite dating, no feelings admitted yet, but the tension was undeniably there. Kylo, back before he had even been Kylo, back before Snoke and the shitshow and the fight and the murder – before all of it, he was some gangly kid with limbs too long, eyes too eager, eager to tell you about his day, eager to hear about yours on long walks and lunches.

But then Snoke did show up, and when Han went out on smuggling runs, Kylo would join Snoke on whatever adventures he offered, desperate to still be a part of something, to prove himself worthy to a family who had always feared him, always tried to prevent him from living to his full potential.

Kylo would bring you back something, from those trips with Snoke. He _always_ brought you back something. It was a silent promise, something you could count on, something to make sure he’d return to you.

At first they were awkward gifts you didn’t know what to do with. Fresh pears and apples from out East that you would cook in every way you knew how, rocks and pebbles from rivers across the country that you lined up along your windowsill. Eventually he graduated to pieces of jewelry and fur coats, but you found those strange tokens were always your favorite, the smaller gestures just as valuable as the larger ones.

But then, more and more, Kylo got involved with things he maybe shouldn’t have. Smuggling stolen goods turned to smuggling drugs real quick, turned to weapons even quicker. He bulked up, became just as broad as he was tall, was used as an attack dog to kill and beat and maim those who went against Snoke, those who pissed him off.

You watched, watched as your best friend became something of a puppet, a toy to be manipulated and tossed aside. You watched as it tore his family apart, as they were split between wanting to help Kylo, and wanting to kill him. That’s when Kylo went away, had to go away, couldn’t handle dealing with those people any longer; a father who gave up on him, a mother and uncle who feared him, a sister who hated him.

He had no desire to change, no desire to return to the way things were. He was plotting, always plotting, and while it broke your heart to see him leave, you knew that when he came back he’d be stronger than he ever was, more powerful than he ever could have been.

He had gone away for years, gone without a trace.

Occasionally, you’d find a basket of pears on your front doorstep, and even though there was no note or card or hint or clue, you knew.

It wasn’t until that day after the fight, after the big murder, that you saw him again.

Moaning and groaning and bleeding out in a back alleyway, face split open and left for dead your best friend laid at your feet. You didn’t even cry, too shocked at the state of him, too terrified that he might kick the bucket at any minute, that you corralled him up into your arms and dragged him home, fixed him up, cleaned him up.

You smiled, thinking about how he confessed his feelings in a stupor, too out of his mind from pain and death and dying to hold back anymore.

And now here you were, years and years later, sitting on the couch eating crepes.

Wasn’t that something?

“It was the right decision.” Kylo said, making you nod. 

Because it had been, even if it was messy.

“I know, I just wish it hadn’t been such a painful one.” You replied, feeding him a fresh strawberry, making him chase it all the way to your lips. “Those years without you fucking sucked.”

He hummed against you, stole strawberry flavored kisses right from your hand, chuckled a little to himself.

“Yeah, they sucked for me too. What a load of bullshit that was.” He sighed, smiling against your lips – as the doorbell rang again.

You frowned, and Kylo immediately tensed, all playful atmosphere diminished.

You got up calmly – knowing that if it were someone here to kill either of you, they wouldn’t be so polite – wrapped your robe tight around your waist, and creeped over to the peephole, groaning to yourself when you saw the familiar blue uniforms.

You left them hanging, recognizing the officers and knowing that they wouldn’t go breaking the door down if left alone for a few minutes.

“Speaking of bullshit – pigs.” You rolled your eyes, pressing pause on the dvd player.

Kylo’s scowl returned, eyes darkening out of something altogether different from earlier, and he stood up too.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding?” Kylo groaned, making you shake your head empathetically.

“Nope, go put some pants on, I’ll deal with them.” You patted his exposed thigh from where his robe struggled to contain him, and he groaned again, not wanting to have to leave you.

You gave him a look and he sighed ever so dramatically, leaning down for one more kiss.

“Love you, be right back.” He grumbled, and you couldn’t help but pinch his ass as he walked past you.

Once he was out of sight, you fixed your clothing and made sure none of your own skin was exposed, before going back to the front door and unlocking all the locks, swinging the door open with a calm smile on your face.

“Good morning officers, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” You asked, nothing but the picture perfect definition of civil.

Officers Poe and Finn were on the other side of your door, and you had dealt with them long enough to know that they would jump at absolutely any opportunity to get you, your husband, or any of the family for that matter, thrown in jail.

So, you didn’t give them any reason to. Where they could take an inch and turn it into a mile, you barely spared a millimeter.

Being that as it was, you stepped aside and let them into the apartment.

“Please take your shoes off, if you’d be so kind.” You said, pointedly waiting.

Finn and Poe looked at one another, and did as they were told. They were smarter than to fuck around with you.

“Morning Mrs. Ren, we have a warrant to search the place.” Finn handed you a signed warrant and you let out a breezy laugh.

“Is that all?” You joked, purposefully being playful before letting them wander around the foyer.

Poe immediately went into the living room, started rifling through side tables and wall unit shelves, looking for whatever it was he wasn’t going to find. 

“You having a party?” Finn asked, following you into the kitchen.

Finn was referring to the huge amount of flowers and balloons and bottles of champagne that practically filled the space, all gifts from people wanting to offer their congratulations at another happy year. You shook your head, not unkindly, and brewed yourself a big pot of coffee from the percolator that you had set up last night.

“No, it’s my wedding anniversary today.” You said with something of a mild satisfaction at watching realization of how rude and intrusive he and Poe were being crossing Finn’s face. “Can I offer you something to drink, coffee, tea? Poe?” You called out to wherever the other officer had gone.

“No, no thank you. We’ll be brief, sorry to interrupt.” Finn quickly declined for the both of them, and you shrugged, more for yourself, you figured.

You were never one to be rude to the police, not to their faces anyway. It was much easier to play along and just call the attorney later to figure out who screwed up in the courts to let officers show up at their door. It wasn’t like they were going to find anything anyway, everything carefully hid and placed in places they would never suspect.

You and Kylo weren’t stupid, after all.

Speaking of the devil, you thought with a smile, Kylo reappeared in one of his fine suits, another one of the vintage ones he liked to lounge around in because they were broken in, soft, comfortable. You’d never know that just by looking at him though, in his entirely altogether too imposing state. 

No one ever caught Kylo in a state of undress, aside from you.

“Finn.” Kylo gave the officer a clipped greeting.

“Hey Kylo, just need to do a sweep of the place.” Finn said, offering him the same warrant he had offered you.

Kylo took a look at it, read the judge’s name, remembered it for later.

“What for this time?” Kylo asked, voice dry, irritated.

Finn couldn’t help but gulp, he had heard the stories, he had seen what Kylo could do, knew what he was capable of.

He could never prove it, but he knew.

“There was a murder, not too far from here. Now I know I’m not going to find any guns in here because you’re smarter than that, but, the DA wants it done anyway.” Finn explained, making Kylo’s scowl only deepen.

“What do you mean there was a murder, there’s always a murder. It’s New York City.” He pointed out, to which you nodded in agreement, poured a mug of straight black coffee for your husband before dumping too much sugar into your own.

“Yeah you know we’ve been working on that, actually?” Poe finally reappeared, dusting his hands off on his trousers, empty handed, as predicted.

Kylo took a sip of his coffee, gave Poe a hard look.

“All due respect Officer Dameron, you ain’t been doing a pretty good job.” He said.

“How’s your mother?” Poe sneered, and you immediately stepped between them, literally, before Kylo’s trigger-happy finger sent them into a world of trouble.

“Would you like the search the top floor? Lots of fun dressers and closets to rifle through up there.” You offered, bright and cheery, diffusing a situation that could turn too ugly too quickly.

Luckily, Finn caught the tension as well, and he steered his partner away from a showdown that would land everyone dead or in jail.

“Thank you very much Mrs. Ren. We’ll just head up there now and then get out of your hair!” Finn called as he more or less shoved Poe up the staircase.

When they were gone, you turned to Kylo, gave his hand a squeeze. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were dark, and he looked entirely too handsome with how angry he was.

“Hey, you’re okay.” You reassured him, rubbed your thumb in circles on the back of his hand where the bandages were clean and minimal, easy to hide with hands in his pockets like Kylo so frequently liked to do. “Poe’s an asshole.”

“M’sorry.” Kylo said through clenched teeth, but you shook your head.

“Don’t be.” You replied sincerely, a steadying anchor for him, always. “They’ll be gone in a bit and then we can get back to our day.”

He nodded, and you cupped his scarred cheek, leading him back to the couch in the living room to resume watching the wedding video.

Neither of you were really paying much attention to it, least of all Kylo. He was acutely listening to the footsteps of the officers on the third floor of the apartment, could hear them opening and closing doors.

It was only about twenty more minutes until they came back down the stairs, once again empty handed.

“We’re all done, Mrs. Ren.” Finn said cheerfully, and you smiled pleasantly back at him, getting off the couch to walk them out, much to Kylo’s annoyance.

“Alright, you boys take care now.” You said as they stepped back into their shoes at the front door.

“Happy anniversary ma’am, again, we’re sorry about this.” Finn blushed, truly apologetic.

“No don’t be, a job’s a job, right?” You laughed, easy breezy beautiful.

You closed the door behind them, and immediately sighed, tension dropping from your shoulders.

“I hate when they touch all your shit like that.” Kylo glowered, rage simmering and smoldering under his skin, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“It’s easier to just let them do it than fighting them, you know that.” You replied sweetly, returning to the couch where he was practically grabbing for you.

“I know, but I don’t fucking like it.” He grumbled, voice deep deep deep, so deep it vibrated into your mouth when he kissed you hard. “You know what I was thinking?”

“What’s that?” You asked, already knowing the answer, knowing from the way his grip on you was too tight, how he was wound up, how he needed to get that pent up aggression out.

He splayed a big hand right on your pussy, ground the heel of his palm against your cunt, licked and sucked at your neck.

“I was thinking maybe I could fuck you really really hard and get you knocked up so we can have a summer baby like we’ve been talking about.” He growled, and you hummed in agreement.

“Oh now _that_ sounds like a very good idea.” You nodded, “Kylo – hey!”

You were laughing at the way he picked you up suddenly, the way he practically tossed you over his shoulder, the way he went up the stairs two at a time with you in his arms. He wasn’t laughing though, he wouldn’t be for a long while, but that was alright.

As long as it was replaced with moans instead.


	4. Anniversary (Pt. 2)

It was true, what they said. About Kylo, about him being a monster. He was ruthless, focused, merciless. He had some wild thing living in his veins, simmering just underneath his skin, some evil harrowing thing with sharp teeth and curled claws and venom dripping from both sets of razors.

You hadn’t tamed the beast, not by any means, but you certainly did a good job of keeping him occupied, you thought to yourself when the two of you had finished, your sore body littered with bruises and bites, sweet soft blooms in the wake of hard hands and grips too tight.

To your own credit, Kylo’s body didn’t fare much better; scratched to high heavens from your nails, bleeding in some parts from the force of it, dark splotches and marks all across his chest. But from his spot on the bed, whole frame shoved up against you, his fingers trailing in lazy patterns on your stomach as he kissed your cheek rosy from exertion in the afternoon sunlight, he didn’t seem to mind.

You took in a deep breath, let it out with a thoughtful hum, rolled off the bed and pulled him by the hand into the bathroom.

Another shower would be excessive, but a wipe-down was absolutely necessary, and he sat on the edge of the bathtub, beckoned you forward so you could stand between his legs.

“Good?” You asked, settled between his knees as he turned the faucet of the tub on, dunked a soft cloth underneath the spray when the water ran warm enough. 

“You’re always good.” He said with intense concentration as he began dutifully wiping you down.

“I meant you, my perfect darling. Are you good?” You asked, making his hand still for a moment from the praise as he turned those eyes up towards you, always looking up at you. He quirked the barest hint of a smile, just the flash of a dimple, and you knew he was preening, blushing from your words.

“I’m breaking out into song and dance.” He replied, deadpan humor of his making you laugh brightly, which in turn made him blush even more, blushing that he could make you laugh.

You couldn’t help but grin, card your fingers through his messy locks. They were clean from being washed only that morning, but the waves had tangled up in the process of him fucking the life out of you. Or maybe into you? Who knew, only time would tell.

“What are you wearing tonight?” You asked, partly because he seemed to be in a chatty mood, giving more than a one-word response. You liked when he was talkative, when he was smiling the way he was. It showed off those dimples you loved so dearly.

“I have a new velvet suit, was thinking about breaking that in.” He shrugged, big brown eyes filled with soul as he searched your face for your response.

You appraised him for a moment, how handsome he was. The way you could see the damage from the scar, how it had just very nearly missed his eyeball, how it had just very nearly avoided blinding him there. You leaned down slightly to kiss the high point of his cheekbone, where the split marred the flesh, as he carefully, adoringly, smoothed the cloth down the backs of your thighs, your calves.

“Velvet.” You finally said, pleased with his choice. “You know I love velvet. I’ll wear it too.” You decided, and he perked up, looking altogether too young, painfully young, in that way he sometimes did when he was excited.

“The red dress?” He licked his lips and you laughed just a little at his eagerness.

“No, I was thinking the purple.” You were sorry to say, tugged on his ear just a little and Kylo rolled his eyes fondly. He continued his ministrations while you hummed in thought, chewed on the inside of your cheek. Something had really been bothering you, from the moment you had regained the ability to form coherent thoughts, “I wonder what murder it was.”

“Hm?” Kylo asked, too occupied with pressing his thumbs into the red marks he left on your hips, occupied with cleaning your stomach.

“Pigs said there was a murder. I wonder who did it.” You specified, and he shrugged.

“It wasn’t any of our people, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” He said, and you chuckled, leaned down for a kiss one more.

“Do you think it could be the same person involved with sending those guys to rough up Larry?” You asked, as his hands dropped the cloth and he pulled you closer closer closer, until you were in danger of knocking him backwards into the tub, in danger of making him lose his balance as his lips were seemingly magnetized to your own.

“Yeah.” Kylo said, eyes slipping closed as you met him halfway and made out with him for a little bit before he pulled away with a low growl in the back of his throat, stopping himself from getting hard all over again. “And it probably is. I don’t entirely believe that it’s not Hux. No one else has the nerve to fuck around with us like that. Maybe we can talk more about it after dinner, I can call some guys and see what’s up, they can get back to me after we eat.” Kylo continued, and your eyebrows nearly shot up at such a speech.

You stepped back, gave him enough room to stand up, and it never failed to amuse you just how tall he was.

So tall and yet he bent – physically and metaphorically – to your will, to meet you.

You turned around to face the mirror, the long clean mirror that covered the wall of the bathroom, and smiled at the reflection of your naked bodies. Kylo stood behind you, and yet he was still so wide that you could see his sides poking out from behind you, watched as his hands slid around your stomach to hold you.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?” You asked, and he kissed your cheek.

“No.” He gave your lower stomach a little smack, before walking away in search of underwear, the chill of the room finally starting to settle in after being so hot from sex.

“But I want to know.” You complained playfully, laughing when a clean pair of your own underwear was chucked at your head.

“Tough shit.” He said, and though he didn’t smile, his eyes shimmered with a lightheartedness of his own.

You snatched them before the cotton could hit you in the face, and stepped into them while he watched with his own approving glare.

“Who d’ya think you are? Talkin’ to me like that?” You folded your arms in front of your chest, stalking towards him in manner that had him backing up out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

“Love you.” He said and you just snapped your teeth at him, making him snatch you around the waist and circle you around and around, to music that wasn’t there, dip you low so he could kiss your laughing mouth.

You eventually got dizzy, and pushed at his chest lightly with a big smile.

“Yeah yeah.” You rolled your eyes, pinched his ass when he set you right, “Go wrap yourself in velvet why don’t you?” 

* * *

Being that it was Sunday, Dopheld was available to drive you both to the restaurant. You and Kylo were snuggled up in the backseat of the car, you in your fur coat and matching hat, and he in his suit, his hand on your knee, possessive and hot.

You had to admit, you were anticipating something overly expensive and exclusive, like Le Bernardin, or Eleven Madison Park, so when Dopheld pulled the Bentley up to a rustic looking jazz club, you were both very excited and amused.

Kylo looked to you, gauging your approval for the place, and you nodded simply.

“Thank you, Dopheld.” Kylo said, before promptly getting out of the car and holding the door open for you.

Your driver only gave a bright smile in response, before driving away to do goodness knows what. Kylo offered you his arm and you took it easily, your heels careful of the ice that had started to form on the pavement.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ren! What an absolute pleasure it is to have you celebrate your special night with us.” The hostess at the door of the restaurant said when the two of you walked in, “Please allow me to take your coat, shall I escort you to our private room?”

Once again, Kylo surprised you by shaking his head as you shimmied out of your furs, handed them over with care.

“No, no thank you.” He replied, voice measured, deep. “We’d like our table to be right with everyone else.”

The hostess was undoubtedly surprised as well, but she was at least decent enough to not be so flustered. You felt bad, the poor woman had probably arranged for something special that would now go to waste. Kylo didn’t care, and stood there expectantly, waiting for the host to finish speaking with a waiter or two, to rearrange the seating.

“Right this way.” The woman said eventually, and Kylo gestured for you to go first, him trailing behind.

It wasn’t until you gave a habitual passing glance out the door, that you realized Kylo had asked Knuckles and Slip to keep watch over the evening. You smiled in their direction, knowing they could see it, before going deeper into the restaurant.

It was dark outside now that the sun had gone down, but you were sure it’d be black as night in this place no matter the time of day. It was a true and proper lounge, with a fully stocked bar encased in dark wood, small round tables covered in a white cloth and decorated with a tea-light candle and bouquet of flowers were arranged so that patrons and waiters alike could weave through the paths with ease. It was smoky, one of the last lounges that allowed smoking indoors you were impressed, and the lights were all dimmed low and golden, except for the lights which illuminated a stage. The thick red curtain was closed for now, but Kylo was checking his watch, so you knew something must be starting soon.

The host brought you to your table, a prime spot in view of the stage. Not too close that you’d be craning your neck all evening, but not too far away that many heads could get in your way. It was even close to the open dance floor, which would no doubt be filled with sentimental couples. You were already planning on being a sentimental couple yourself, as Kylo pulled your chair out for you.

“Who’s preforming tonight?” You asked the hostess, who glanced at the stage and then at her own watch.

“We’ve received a special request for the evening, it’s just our house band but they’re doing covers of Sinatra songs.” She replied, and you couldn’t help but suck in a breath.

“You’re so good, you know that?” You turned to Kylo, grasped his hand in an adoring squeeze as he shifted his chair to sit next to you as opposed to across from you.

You pressed your side right up against his as the host left, clearly wanting to give you space.

“Oh I’m even better, just wait.” He said in a rare display of cheeky confidence.

When the food arrived, it was a smorgasbord of all your favorites. It felt like the courses were never-ending, between the appetizers and the soup and the main dish with all its sides. Every bite was somehow more delicious than the last, and you wanted to know how Kylo had found such a place, such a hole-in-the-wall.

You wondered if it was in his jurisdiction, or if the owners just knew of him, like over at John’s.

Almost as soon as the food arrived, did the band get up on stage. Dressed like they were from the 1940s, transporting you back in time. Not in that hokey way of poorly made wigs and generic fedora hats, but in a considerate way, a thoughtful way, attention to detail in the history of the fashion, respecting the times. 

You hummed and tapped your foot along to the music as you and Kylo stared into one another’s eyes, being obnoxiously in love without a care in the world. He fed you, lifted your fork up to your lips, and you carefully avoided smudging your lipstick.

You’re both relatively quiet while you eat, too wrapped up in each other’s gaze and more than happy to simply enjoy the music. The singer did a wonderful job imitating the songs, putting his own spin on some of the intonation every now and again in a way you appreciated. But eventually, the last course was taken away, and you had the urge to dance.

One look towards the dance floor had Kylo rising from his seat and offering you his hand, which you gladly took, and he walked you to the middle of the floor. You weren’t the only couple there, not by any means – it felt like half the tables were empty of people instead swaying back and forth. 

When the big band orchestra played up Always, you couldn’t help but grin and blush, duck your head just a little, just enough for Kylo to tip your chin back up to meet his gaze through lidded eyes. His arm slid around your waist, his other moving to grasp your hand as he turned you round and around on the dance floor.

And people always said you were the sentimental one, you couldn’t help but think as the singer up on the stage crooned out your wedding song. Kylo himself was starry-eyed, chewing on his lip, and you didn’t deny him a kiss, didn’t deny either of you a soft, romantic kiss.

The lounge was hazy and smooth, and though you’re surrounded by other couples in diamonds and pearls, you feel like the luckiest woman on earth, the only woman on earth.

“How come you wanted us in the middle of everyone?” You asked softly, a small smile on your lips as the two of you waltzed slowly to the music.

“I saw some familiar faces when we walked in. Figured they wouldn’t cause a scene if we were out in the open.” Kylo said, and your brow creases slightly.

“Where?” You asked, and Kylo’s jaw clenched, he rotated you both around so that you’re facing the opposite direction.

“Just past the big pillar.” He said, low in your ear, as his lips brushed against the back of your cheek, pressed a chaste kiss to your skin. You hummed and let him keep kissing as you searched for who might be there to bother you, when your eyes landed on them.

The brother sister duo of Roisin and Connor were chatting near the great marble pillar which supports the ceiling of the ritzy lounge, and you held your eye contact when they took notice of you noticing them. They looked good, you had to admit. The deep green satin dress complimented Roisin’s ginger hair and freckled complexion beautifully, and you couldn’t ever recall a time where you didn’t see Connor in a suit. His wasn’t velvet like Kylo’s, but it was still tailored well enough and had big enough shoulder pads to broaden him out a bit.

“Fuck.” You breathed when they decided you’ve been staring too long, “They’re Irish. And they’re coming over.”

Kylo seemingly didn’t mind too much, not in the moment anyway, and just kept dancing with you as they made their way across the floor, joining in and dancing with one another to not seem so conspicuous.

You and Kylo did your best not to look suspicious, not to look alert, not even when they wound up dancing right next to you. Seemingly nothing but two couples, strangers in this great big world, happening to steal a piece of the beauty of the moment.

That is until the song ended, and there’s polite applause for a song well sung, until they turned to face you as the man took a big swig of water and shared a small anecdote that has the crowd chuckling in amusement while the band set up for the next song.

“Kylo, (Y/N).” Connor kept his voice low, at least had the decency to nod his head in respect, “Fancy meeting you here.”

“What do you want?” Kylo cut right to the chase, and Roisin laughed in that quiet, elevated way people of high society laugh.

“A dance.” She said, and you’re prepared to claim your man right in front of her, when she surprised you by looking right at you and specifying, “With (Y/N).”

“No.” Kylo said immediately, grip around your waist tightening. But something in Roisin’s appraising gaze is calculating enough to interest you.

“One dance.” You said, that gaze a challenge. You’ve never been known to back down from a challenge.

Kylo and Connor both exchanged glances, and Kylo’s jaw worked and worked and worked to keep his mouth shut, as he nodded, as they both walked to the sidelines.

He’s not happy about it, not happy one fucking bit, but you wanted to know what’s going on. Roisin’s skin was soft where her dress wasn’t covering her, thin spaghetti straps showing off her toned arms. She assumed the leading position, which you found you didn’t mind.

“Roisin, is everything okay?” You asked, brushing a strand of curled hair off of her shoulder.

“No, they’re not. We’re here to serve as a warning.” Roisin said with a bit of a sigh, and you nodded.

Warnings were messy, they always were. You didn’t have a gun on you, didn’t think you’d need it, but you knew Kylo had three on him right now, he could intervene if he needed to. You may not have had a gun, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t kill her right then, right there.

And you would, but you wanted answers first.

“Just tell me something first, is it Hux?” You asked, as she twirled you slowly, dipped you down down down, stomach fluttering from it as she raises you back up, all too similar to how Kylo had in the bathroom.

“Is what Hux?” She asked, and you didn’t really appreciate that, playing dumb.

“The person committing all the murders, sending guys to harass our business owners?” You spelled it out, gave her that much leeway.

Except.

She faltered the dance for a moment as she frowned, her pale brows knitting as she regarded you for a moment. In your peripheral, you saw Kylo and Connor tense, incredibly tense, as they watched the two of you on the dance floor.

“Wait – we thought _you _were the ones committing the murders and sending guys to harass _our _people.” She said quietly, her hands reclaiming your waist and palm, resuming the dance once more.

It wouldn’t do to draw attention, not now.

“We haven’t sent anyone anywhere.” You shook your head, now thoroughly unhappy with the proceedings of this Midtown disaster. “Shit, you’ve got people dying too?” You asked, and she groans in the back of her throat, nods.

“Yeah, fuck. Well this makes it awkward.” She sighed, careful to avoid stepping on your toes as she spun you around, and ahh there it is.

“Makes what awkward?” You prompted, just to get it out of the way.

“I’m supposed to kill you. Hux thinks Kylo’s crossed a line, one of his favorite suppliers was found carved up last night.” She explained, and you hummed thoughtfully, because really by all accounts his reaction makes sense given his perspective.

Too bad it’s the wrong one.

“If you’d like you can give it your best try.” You offered Roisin, who looked at you like you’ve got three heads.

“You’re going to let me murder you?” She asked, and you laughed brightly, shook your head.

“I’m going to let you try.” You specified, making her grin.

Many people have tried.

Roisin reached in between her cleavage and pulled out the smallest little gun you’ve ever seen, one that probably could only hold three or four bullets, one that she pressed against your hip, leaned in close, her perfectly applied lipstick very close to your cheek. The metal was cold, cold enough that you could feel it through the velvet of your dress, and she hummed, her lashes tickling your skin.

Before she can cock the trigger and plant her literal kiss of death, you reached into your hair and pulled out the long needle that you’ve used as a decorative pin to hold your locks up, and swiftly pushed it between her ribs, penetrating that pretty green satin. The needle slid into her flesh like she’s made of butter, and you couldn’t help but smile just a little as you turned your face to press a kiss to her own cheek, leaving the pretty imprint of your deep red lips. 

“Damn.” She chuckled with a wince, as your hand was now pressed right against her skin, as you let go of the needle. It remained deep inside her, puncturing one of her major arteries. She tensed up immediately from the pain, “You really are fast.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You whispered, “You can keep that.” You tap the pretty handle of the needle, encrusted with jewels that you’ll be sad to miss.

But if you pulled it out of her right now, then she’d die practically on the spot, and that would cause a scene. You very well couldn’t have that.

Not on your anniversary.

“I suggest you leave.” You said, as the song ended, her one dance up. You turned to the singer and applauded along with everyone else, as Roisin started to cough. You didn’t bother looking at her again while saying, “And if you make it long enough, when you’re out of the hospital tell Hux we didn’t send anyone to do anything. This was in self-defense.”

“Fair enough.” Roisin groaned.

“Actually,” You said, stopping her before she could get too far, “I do really want to keep this, if you don’t mind.”

With wide eyes she was unable to stop you from reaching out and pulling the needle out of her stomach. Connor rushed over, as she immediately doubled down onto herself, clutching at the rapidly growing dark splotch in her dress.

He hurried the two of them out of the lounge, with only a minor commotion. The way Roisin was hunched over herself made it look more like she was suffering from food poisoning than a stabbing.

“Do you mind if I borrow this?” You asked a near-by table for their napkin as Kylo wove through the crowd like a shark.

You gave the man seated at the table the most dazzling charming smile you could, and he didn’t think twice about handing over his black cloth napkin. You gratefully took it right when Kylo showed up, slid his arm around your waist and shot the meanest glare he was able. You only kissed Kylo’s cheek, and having now procured the napkin, returned to the dance floor with him, leaving the man in the dust.

You wiped the needle off on the cloth and were about to twist your hair back up when Kylo lightly stopped your wrist.

“Keep it down.” He said, and you smiled, slipped the needle inside his jacket pocket. He began to dance with you again, as you both surveyed the floor – it was clear of blood, which was good. Didn’t need the pigs snooping around more than necessary. Still, Kylo had been out of earshot, so he was curious when he asked, “What happened?”

“She’ll be dead by the time they get to the car.” You mused, but he wasn’t smiling.

“Yeah but why?” He asked again, and you chewed your lip in thought.

“Hux thinks _we’re_ the one fucking up all over the place. It’s really not him, Kylo.” You said, and his jaw clenched tight again.

“Someone is trying to pit our families against each other.” He made the obvious statement just to make it, just to try and make sense of it, “But I don’t know why.”

“There’s a lot of sick sons of bitches out there, but there’s even more stupidity. Ask the KoR to feel around just like you said, there’s got to be some evidence of this mystery person.”

“Okay.” Kylo nodded, already reaching in to take out his phone. “Also, I want to go, tomorrow. I think we should.”

You gave him a questioning glance for a moment, his decision surprising you for a moment longer, before you huffed a small laugh and plucked the cell phone right out of his palm, and he rolled his eyes. He worked too much, you thought.

“It can wait until we’re on our way home.” You puckered your lips, and Kylo, the man so in love as he was, swooped down to plant a loud smack right to your lips.

* * *

It took less than thirty seconds after the front door closed for Kylo to be all over you, hands all over you, lips all over you.

You let him, in the dark of your foyer, you let him.

“You were so good today.” You breathed, allowing yourself to simply feel adored, to let Kylo give whatever he wanted, take as much as he gave.

“Was I?” He asked, licked his lips, eyes wide, bright in the moonlight.

There was something there, something eager and filled with anticipation – but a hunger as well. That same hunger he had shown you earlier in the day, that same hunger he always seemed to have, stomach of the beast rumbling for you.

“Yes, very good. Tonight was so wonderful.” You whispered, cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him too sweetly, licked gently into his mouth in the way that made him keen and whine, desperate.

You let your hand fall to his crotch, shoved it down his trousers and found his cock already hard, already so full for you. You gave it a few good, even, steady strokes, ones that had his huge frame twitching, curling in towards you, shoulders rounding in and making himself small, making himself try and swallow you whole.

“I-I’m glad.” He moaned, and you smiled, kissed the corner of his open mouth as you sped up your hand a little more, used the pre-come that was slowly oozing out of his cock as lube to wet your hand more and more.

“I think someone deserves something sweet.” You pulled away, leaving him frustrated in the most delicious way.

“Let me eat your pussy?” He asked, so quick, like he had been hoping for this, had been planning for it.

“Get me naked first.” You ordered, and he was eager, desperate to do so.

So desperate in fact, that he didn’t even make it to the bedroom. He walked you to the living room, and splayed you out on the couch, shedding your layers on the way.

You had surprised him, by not wearing any underwear. This was _both _of your night, after all. You winked at him when he kneeled between your legs, fully dressed while you were now naked. He groaned into your skin just from the sheer lust he felt for you, buried his face between your knees in a way that made you laugh.

He thunked his forehead against your thigh and kissed the spot there before pulling your hips to the edge of the couch.

You were growing impatient yourself, and you helped the process along by propping your bare foot up against the shiny coffee table that would no doubt be smudged with your oils and sweat in a few moments, after he had had a taste of you.

You propping your foot up gave him a little nook between your legs that he could live in, and live there he did. He closed his eyes and breathed you in, breathed in the smell of your cunt, running his hands up and down your calves, the backs of your thighs, just breathing, until his mouth was literally watering so much he had to swallow hard, and then he dove in.

“Yes!” You gasped when he finally did breach you.

His tongue felt so good against you, the way it wriggled deep inside you, the way it dragged against the walls of your pussy, and you moaned loud, unashamed. His hands gripped your hips as he pushed his face as close to your cunt as possible, his nose rubbing against your clit, prodding it there as he spread your folds with his tongue and lips, sucked them into his mouth, swallowed down all the slick that your pussy gave him.

“Oh honey,” You gasped, chest heaving as you tangled your hand in his hair, the other gripping the cushion of the couch, “Fuck it’s so good, you’re so good.”

He moaned into you, and fuck _that _was a feeling you could cry from, the devastatingly deep baritone of his voice radiating through your body, right into your very core. He pulled away though and you complained, verbally protesting with a disappointed groan, which had him pleading with those eyes, kissing the inside of your knee.

“What -- ?” You asked. You could see your juices all over his goatee, in his beard and there was something sick and delicious about the way he licked it off his moustache.

“I have to fuck you.” He explained, shucking off his four-thousand-dollar suit like it was made of paper. “I have to, get inside this tight cunt.” He begged, and you nodded, frantic.

“Take me, come on, take what you want, make me come.” You were just as eager, just as desperate, and you made room for him on the couch, shimmied up it and laid horizontally across the cushions so he could settle himself between your legs.

He slid in easily, smeared his body against yours.

“Oh shit.” He groaned, sinking deeper and deeper into your hot pussy, breathing hard against your throat where he had buried his face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, made for me, just for me.”

“Kylo.” You whined his name, threw your head back when he began to thrust.

“I’m going to make you scream my name, I want you to scream for me, I want all of Manhattan to hear you crying on my dick.” He promised, and you could see it, could feel it, the way the monster was peeking through, the way his eyes had glazed over, so in love with you.

He built up a rhythm that had you shouting in no time, breath hot in his ear as he bit down on the spot where your neck and shoulder met. His hips rolled against yours, ground into yours, and your knees dropped open from the pleasure of it, legs turning to jelly and jam, melting under his touch.

“Oh please,” It was your turn now, your turn to beg, as tears welled up in your eyes under his ministrations, as he fucked fucked fucked you, touched you.

And oh did he touch you everywhere, every linger of his fingers a reverence, a declaration. He fucked you, hard and rough, skin slapping on skin, with one foot planted on the floor to give him the amount of leverage he needed, to let him really slam his hips so hard against yours that it felt like he was fucking your throat -- but he did it with nothing short of wonder in his face, that he could have this, that he could have you.

Three years you’d been married, a lifetime of love before that, and still despite it all, he always considered himself so lucky to get to take you apart like this.

He lifted one of your legs where it had gone limp, lifted it up and over his shoulder so he could plow into you faster, harder, punching the air out of you, the high shouts and moans and gasps out of you. All of it was music to his ears, all of it was praise, and all of it only made him want to work harder, only made him crave you more deeply.

He growled, angry suddenly, angry that he couldn’t just do this all the time, couldn’t just live in your pussy like he wanted, and nearly snapped you in half as he manhandled you instead onto your hands and knees. He draped himself across your back, kissed your spine, the nape of your neck where he pushed all your hair away.

His body was a cage around yours as his hips shoved his cock deeper into you, a better angle, a better and more filling feeling, having him fuck you from behind. His arms were strong and the muscles there worked effortlessly to hold himself up as he ground into you, as his cock knocked up against your cervix in a way that was nearly painful.

He let one hand slide against your abdomen, let his hot and sweaty hand feel you. He swore he could feel your heartbeat in your pussy, right there for him, beating wildly and erratically just the way he was for you. He bit down on you hard, drank in the sound of your cries as that hand moved lower and lower, until he was toying with your clit, zig-zagging across it in a way that had your shoulder-blades pinching inwards as your arms gave out under you, your upper half collapsing down onto the cushions.

He wasn’t done with you, not even while you came, still pushing into you. He was hot, dripping sweat all over your back, his goatee scratching up your skin as he mouthed and sucked at you.

You could feel it, eventually, when he did come, when his hips finally pressed up against yours for the last time for the evening, when he crushed you into the couch with his weight.

“Honey?” You asked, voice muffled from where you were smushed into the couch.

“Uh huh?” Kylo panted, eyes shut tight, still coming inside you.

“Maybe don’t kill me on our anniversary.” You laughed, huffed a little, and he huffed out too, kissing the spot between your shoulders and rolling you both over.

He mis-calculated though, and you both rolled onto the floor with a yelp.

At least you landed on top of him, and laughed.

He looked up at you, always looking up at you, with such love in his eyes that you simply had to kiss him, you had to, so you did.

And if the two of you stayed there on the floor, on top of the plush rug of the living room, covered in sweat that was cooling to only a light itch, the great expanse of the city just outside your window, the Chrysler building all lit up, well, who could blame you?

* * *

The next day, you both found yourselves in Long Island.

Standing outside Leia’s door.

You held a casserole dish in your hands, one that was covered with tin foil, and Kylo was doing his very best not to bolt back to the car where Dopheld had parked it in the driveway.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, standing out front on the doorstep. “It’s not too late to turn back now, if you want.”

“No.” Kylo grit out, and your heart broke a little.

Before you could press him on the manner, he lifted his hand to ring the doorbell. He didn’t even get as far as making contact with the little button before the door swung open, revealing a very short, and very angry woman on the other side.

“Well!” Leia scoffed, “Look who actually decided to show up for lunch today.”

You winced, shutting your eyes so you wouldn’t bear witness to it, to the suffering you knew was going to come with this visit.

Leia hosted lunch every Monday. And just about every Monday, you and Kylo avoided it like the plague. It was supposed to be an attempt at bringing the family together, at reconnecting and healing old wounds, but it became clear after too many screaming matches and physical blows between family members, than it would be best if Kylo just…didn’t show up.

So he never did. You were always the one to call her, to let her know that oh, no, we’re so sorry but something’s come up. Every week without fail, she called and every week you were the one to answer. It had been nearly three months since Kylo had actually spoken aloud to his mother.

Which of course brought in a whole separate argument, one that Leia was gearing up to starting right now, right there on the front porch.

“Hi mom.” Kylo said, although he didn’t sound particularly thrilled. He didn’t even make an effort to attempt to smile.

“I’m shocked and surprised and honestly? A little disappointed.” Leia said in that way of hers that was supposed to cut deep, supposed to hit too close to home.

You wondered when that line was no longer drawn to even be able to be crossed any longer.

“Good to see you too mom.” Kylo kept it dry and to the point, because really, he wasn’t here to see Leia.

She threw her hands up in exasperation before taking the casserole from you.

The inside of the house was normal. Leia never liked the lavish lifestyle, not even when she was still running things with Han. Before Han, well. You tried not to think about that.

But it was a very normal, regular, suburban house. You couldn’t imagine living in it.

You directed your attention away from the furnishings and back to your husband, who was doing his absolute best not to explode. You held his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, you just knew his other one was balled into a fist where it was shoved in his trousers’ pocket.

You and Kylo were the first ones to show up to the lunch; Lando, Chewie, Luke, Wedge, and Rey all presumably on their way.

“No phone call, no visits – ” Leia starts, although she’s cut off by the arrival of Kylo’s Uncle.

Like Lando, Chewie wasn’t really related to Kylo in any way, but he had been Han’s best and most close companion, so he had more or less been indoctrinated into the family.

Things were the most tense between Chewie and Kylo though, so Kylo remained in his corner, silently glaring at the clock on the wall, as you made up for his rudeness with overly politeness on his behalf.

“Hey Uncle Chewie.” You said, leaning in to exchange greeting cheek kisses.

“It’s good to see you, (Y/N), been too long, eh?” Chewie smiled, his teeth unnervingly sharp. 

“You just drop in whenever it’s convenient to you, not caring about your poor mother.” Chewie’s comment sparked Leia’s whole spiel again.

“Mom, you’re many things but you’re not poor.” Kylo finally snapped, before exhaling deeply out of his nose and asking, “Where’s Rey?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking. My back is fine, thanks for asking.” Leia spit back at him, purposefully being difficult.

“How’s your back?” Kylo asked dryly, a hard stare on his face.

“It’s fine.” Leia sarcastically replied.

“And you wonder why I don’t come.” Kylo muttered under his breath, shook his head and you spared him a glance.

This was a mistake, of course it was a mistake, and you were upset with yourself for not fighting Kylo on the subject further. He was literally backed into a corner, had situated himself in a corner of the kitchen where the two counter-tops converged, and he was starting to lose his patience to a point where you worried about how close he was to the knife block.

“You’re lucky I don’t hand you over to the police right now.” Leia sneered, but Kylo only scoffed.

“Go ahead.” He dared, voice even and deep, eyes hard, knowing that even if she did, even if she called her precious pig Poe, they’d not find a single damn thing on him, on any of you.

“Mrs. Organa, will Rey be coming today?” You asked lightly but firmly, wanting to respect her in her home but also stand up for your husband, and to get an answer. If Rey wouldn’t be there, you’d yank him out and take him back to Manhattan in a heartbeat.

“Of course she’s coming – unlike _one_ of my children, Rey has respect for tradition and family.” Leia replied, passive-aggressive.

“We’re taking Midtown from her.” Kylo said, making both her, and Chewie – who had been rifling through the fridge this whole time to try and find a beer – freeze.

“You’re doing what?” Chewie asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Midtown. We’re taking it away from her.” You nodded, answered for Kylo who had officially moved away from the knife block and had come to stand behind you, arms taking their place around your middle.

It was quiet for a long while, as Leia and Chewie looked at one another for a moment.

“I hope you’re prepared for an argument.” She said, for once not entirely venomous.

“I’m always prepared for an argument with you people.” Kylo muttered again, distracting himself with kissing your neck slightly.

“What Kylo means,” You interpreted, as Kylo nosed at the exposed skin from where your blouse’s neckline revealed, “Is that we know it’s going to upset her, that’s why we wanted to announce it here, where she could be comfortable. We didn’t want to show up at her house like last time to tell her.”

“Tell who what?” A voice asked from the living room, followed by the sound of the closing of the front door.

Kylo took a deep breath – but Leia beat him to the punch, leaving the kitchen to go greet her daughter.

“They’re taking away Midtown from you.” She told Rey before anyone else could even do so much as blink, as she hugged Rey, who had gone stiff as a board.

“Mom!” Kylo snapped,

“You’re _what?_” Rey shouted at the same time.

Kylo hid firmly behind you as Rey stalked, lethal into the kitchen with her teeth bared.

She was so feral when she was angry – they all were, but for some reason she reminded you more of Anakin than anyone else.

“Listen kid, that part of the city is a fucking mess and is only getting worse ever since we let you handle it.” Kylo said it, plain and simple, but Rey didn’t agree.

“No it hasn’t!” She protested, storming more and more into the kitchen.

You remained unflinching, a literal barrier between them.

“We heard from some of the KoR this morning, there’s been three break-ins and four murders in the last 5 days. The thing with Lenny isn’t an isolated incident. The police are starting to call it a crisis and they’ve got cars patrolling the area now. Word on the street is people are saying Hell’s Kitchen is going back to how it was when Brendol was running it, and we just can’t have that.” You said, trying to explain it to her the most calm and collected way you could.

Kylo was growing more and more riled, more and more irritated in a way that was nothing but danger.

“Some of our associates are calling me, saying there’s no way to get a hold of you, you don’t return anyone’s calls, you’re never in the fucking office.” He said, running a hand through his hair so he didn’t punch his sister in the face, “I’m sorry Rey but we can’t risk anything more over there. We’re pulling you from Midtown.”

Rey wasn’t happy.

“You can’t do that.” She shook her head, fuming, “I won’t let you do that. I’ve got too much going on right now for this shit.”

“What? What’s going on? You can tell us Rey we want to make sure there’s no trouble.” Leia asked, put herself into this mix.

“No I can’t fucking tell you.” Rey groaned as she scrubbed a hand down her face.

“Is it Gwen?” Leia asked again, not dropping it, “I thought things were going well between you.”

“It’s not – listen my sex life has nothing to do with this.” Rey shouted, and there we go, you thought, let the shouting begin.

“Rey.” Kylo suddenly went dead still, his hand frozen from where it had been tensing against your stomach, “Are you running business behind my fucking back?”

Everyone, including yourself raised their brows at that, at that assumption, that conclusion, that question. You searched his face for where the hell he had come up with that, but Rey lunged at Kylo’s throat before you could even question him about it.

You were caught in the cross-fire for all of two seconds, before Kylo quickly stepped in front of you so you wouldn’t get hurt, as the siblings literally wrestled to the fucking floor.

“Should we stop them?” Chewie asked, but you shook your head.

“No, not yet.” Leia agreed, “Not until she get’s in a good swing at least.”

That made you roll your eyes, made you want to throw a fist of your own, but you restrained yourself. This really wasn’t supposed to have been a brawl, but Rey and Kylo were now punching the shit out of one another, fighting dirty, using all the tricks in the book and shouting at each other in the process.

They had knives drawn, little switch-blades hidden in boots and coat pockets, and were doing a real number on trying to cut the other’s tongue out, trying to slice throats, trying to gouge out eyes.

“No, I’m not running any fucking business behind your back!” Rey slapped Kylo hard across the cheek, and in response he wrestled her around and slammed the back of her head against the hard tile floor.

The sharp crack made everyone wince. 

“Then what the fuck is up?” Kylo demanded, deranged, the both of them crazy, practically frothing at the mouth with hate for one another.

“I’m going to school!” Rey screamed in his face, making everyone let out a sound of confusion.

“…What?” Kylo asked, dumbfounded, panting, as he held his blade up to her throat.

“I started school, you fucking jackass. I’m getting my degree.” Rey explained, “The reason I’m gone all the time is because I have classes and exams, god you’re so selfish, not everything revolves around you, _Boss_.”

“Rey that’s wonderful! Why didn’t you tell us?” Leia asked, clasping her hands in front of her like her two children were not currently trying to actively murder one another with weapons they were far too trained to use.

You walked over calmly and placed a hand on Kylo’s shoulder, a silent order for him to get up, and he did. He stuck his blade back in his pocket, and you saw a flash of the guns he had in his holster as he did so. You were lucky it hadn’t come to that.

“I didn’t want to be cross-examined for every single fucking choice I make, let alone by this one.” Rey sighed, before standing up and brushing the struggle off of her clothes, saying again, “I’m going to school.”

But...

Something...was off, from the way she said it.

Something in the way she avoided eye contact, the way her voice raised in register slightly, the way there was a minor tremor in her tone.

You chalked it up to just having fought with Kylo but…that sounded like a lie.

And as if she had telepathic powers, Rey met your eyes, and you could see there was worry there, anxiety.

Why would she lie?

“Listen Rey, we’re sorry that it all came out like this, but maybe this is for the better.” You said, not really paying attention to the words you were saying, much more interested in reading her face, scouring her gaze for any hint, any offering, any clue as to what was going on in her head. Your mouth was on autopilot while you scanned her, took in everything to account, from her posture to her breathing, “Now you can focus on your coursework and not worry about running forty-blocks worth of the city.”

“(Y/N), if you didn’t scare the shit out of me so much, I’d really hate you right now.” Rey said.

That at the very least was truthful.

“I know.” You replied, not smiling, not even giving a fake one. Kylo looked at you hard, and he could tell that you knew something was up. “You can hate me all you’d like, but we’re still pulling you from Midtown.” You said.

“I think we’d better leave.” Kylo interjected, before anyone had a chance to say anything else.

You nodded in agreement, and smoothed your hair down. It had been a roller-coaster of twenty-four fucking hours, that was for sure.

You took Kylo’s hand and simply walked out of the kitchen, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

“Oh so you’re not even going to stay for lunch? After all that?” Leia was incredulous, following the two of you out into the parking lot.

What timing, you thought, as Luke was just parking his car next to yours.

“No, I don’t really think that’s a very good idea.” You said, giving her a falsely apologetic glare that she saw right through. “You guys enjoy, we’ll see you soon.” You lied, only nodding in passing to Luke who was visibly confused as to the presence of you and Kylo – or rather, more like your departure.

Dopheld must have had a sixth sense, because he had already started up the car and warmed the seats, ready for you and Kylo to sit comfortably in the back.

When the house and the neighborhood were firmly far enough away for Kylo to release a breath, you tried to lighten up the mood.

“Well that went about as well as it was going to.” You gave a sad smile, heart breaking for him, for how his relationship with his family was so damaged, had only grown more and more damaged over the years.

“It could have been worse.” He shrugged, jaw set, even as he lit up a cigarette and sucked down the nicotine anxiously, opened the window just a crack so that he could blow the smoke away.

“How?” You asked, and he swiped his thumb across his face, wiping away a trickle of blood that had oozed out from a sliver thin slice Rey had managed to nick into his cheek.

“She could have cut my face up again.” He said, making you both smile.


	5. Declaration of War

It’s dark, when Kylo woke you.

Five o’clock on the dot, as he did every day, with a bit of grumbling and a lot of coaxing. He woke you even though you’re on the verge of waking up yourself, your internal clock so used to his schedule after all these years. Still, he took the task at hand seriously, kissed up your body tenderly, far too tenderly for a man so callous, so harsh, so rough.

Your skin bloomed with shivers and shudders of intimacy as he slowly slipped the covers away from your body, as he caressed your feet to press kisses to the ankles there, kissed up your calves and smoothed his large warm hands over your hips. His tongue dipped into your navel and you smiled, eyes still shut, reveling in the attention. He continued upwards, nuzzled his face in your cleavage, nipped gently at your sternum, before he laved his tongue over your jugular, teeth too sharp in the best way.

You’re not the only ones awake, not this early, if the sounds of traffic far away were any evidence. The city that never sleeps, they called it, Manhattan. In the dark of the room, you can’t see much when you finally blinked awake, not until your eyes adjusted. Even then it’s just the soft outlines of things, of your husband as he crowded you underneath him, morning wood pressing hard against your stomach.

“Please?” He asked breathlessly, always asked, always wanted to make sure you want him.

“Come here.” You said as you opened your arms to him, looped them around his neck to encourage him to settle in close. You always wanted him, always, even though your breath was sour from sleep. You tangled a hand into his knotted hair and kissed him with a, “’Morning.”

“Mhm.” He hummed, kissed you back, because he knew today is going to be a stressful day and he’s not in the mood to really be vocal about anything, at least not until after he comes.

Your sleepy smile dropped into a slack-jawed _o _as he dipped a hand down to your pussy and slipped two fingers in, pressing your hips back down into the mattress with his own. He fingered you only for a little while, only to get you dripping wet for him, only to get the sounds of your slick being pushed around loud enough that you could barely hear the traffic outside. He’s slow and methodical, like with everything else he did when he has the frame of mind to do it right – and you’re moaning and whining within minutes from the steady rhythm he builds.

“You’re so good, so good to me.” You praised him as you brushed his hair away from his handsome face, kissed the side of his nose and let him lick into your mouth in return, and that’s the last straw.

When he’s decided he can’t wait any longer, he withdrew his fingers and sucked them clean, humming around the taste of you as his cock rubbed between your folds, getting him wet, lubricating his dick so it slid in with no problem. He’s too tall, and he frowned when he tried to figure out a way to fuck you and kiss you at the same time. Your head only really came up to his collarbones, and he’s a little too rough with the way he grabbed at your jaw, hand nearly encompassing your whole face as he stretched you like a taut wire underneath him to reach your lips.

“Kylo,” you warned, and he nodded in apology, grunted as his hips roll against yours.

“M’sorry.” He panted, his grip on your jaw fluttering as his hands shook from the pleasure he got as he fucked you.

You smiled and moaned into his mouth anyway, not really angry with him, not with the way his cock thrusted all the way inside you, filled you so fully. Sometimes when he’s in the mood to talk in more than one-word sentences he’s a babbling mess, sweet nothings of the filthiest kind, things like how you’re made to take his cock, made just for him, him and only him.

And even though he didn’t speak then, the only noises coming from him are the grunts deep in his chest and the gasps when you clench around him, you could almost hear the rush of his thoughts as the fingers on your jaw digged deeper.

“Oh – honey – yes!” Your toes curled as he picked up the pace, desperate for you.

He doesn’t usually last too long in the mornings, usually only fucks you because he’s addicted to the way you make him feel, addicted to the way he makes _you _feel. His speed had you bouncing on the bed, the mattress creaking and groaning even though it’s made from the most sturdy materials – he’s just that strong, doesn’t know his own strength half the time, when he’s this wrapped up in the feeling of your hot cunt around his cock.

He built up a sweat, you could feel it on his back as your hands slipped and slid over them, your body curling around his, legs wrapping around his hips as you try and gain purchase, try and get closer. Sometimes you wish you had a mirror on the ceiling or something, just a way to watch him as he moves. It’s intoxicating, the feeling of his muscles spending all their energy into punching out moans from your throat, all that strength that’s killed and crushed and maimed being directed directly into you.

You pressed your hips upwards, planted your feet down on the mattress and pushed them up enough to give him more leverage, and the two of you nearly smacked foreheads together when his cock dragged perfectly against your gspot, making your eyes fly open and your cunt clench down hard around him.

“Ffffuck,” He clamped his teeth down on your shoulder, drew the word out long and low, and pride filled your chest, electrified every nerve in your body as his hand slid to your lower back to hold you in place as he railed you.

“Please, please Kylo I’m close.” You begged, and his face pinched up tight from where it’s buried in your throat, biting at your skin. You could feel the way his nose was scrunched up, and your flesh muffled his moans, the vibration going straight through you, right to your clit.

And then it’s not just the vibrations, it’s his big fucking thumb zig-zagging across it, and you came with his cock milking your gspot and his fingers toying with your clit and his teeth on your pulse and you can’t help but let tears slip out from your shut eyes because it’s so so so good.

You went pliant for him, as little shocks of pleasure thrilled through you, made your toes curl and your back arch before melting into a puddle beneath him. He fucked you through your orgasm and you saw stars in the dark, white hot splotches in the air. When he came it’s almost a blessing, just shy of being too oversensitive.

His hips still flush against yours, and you could feel his come spreading up into you, could feel the twitch of his dick as he kept himself buried. He’s panting, and sweat was dripping from his nose, from the ends of his hair, and it’s all you could do to hold him close as he collapsed down on top of you.

You stayed like that for some time, until it’s nearly six in the morning and the sun began to peek up over the city skyline, and the traffic grew louder and your sweat grew itchy.

His breath evened out eventually, and wordlessly he took your hand and hauled you up out of bed, in the direction of the bathroom before you could even begin to complain about your bladder being full. You smiled, let yourself be led.

* * *

Later, when the two of you were dressed and sitting in the big grey living room, you looked at him. He was sat on the couch and you were between his legs on the floor, tying up the laces of his expensive shiny shoes. He was more than capable of doing it himself, you knew that, but you liked to do small things like this for him. Especially when the day was going to be rough.

“You know we have to go talk to Hux today, right?” You asked, and he lit up a cigarette right then and there, a gesture which made you chuckle to yourself despite the circumstance.

He knew, of course he did, that was why he was in such a bad mood, but it had to happen and soon. The longer you waited, the longer Kylo didn’t react, the worse it would get. And really, there had already been one attempt on your life – it couldn’t get much worse.

“Do you want me to set it up? I can call Gwen, she’ll tell him and get back to me.” You asked, resting your cheek on his knee.

He sucked down the nicotine and exhaled dramatically through his nose as a response, and you hummed, planted a kiss to his knee and stood up from your spot between his legs.

He stood up too, followed you from the couch to the kitchen island where your phone was resting, and wrapped himself around you as you hit the speed-dial for your cousin.

Gwen was good about answering her phone. She never usually let it go past two rings, no matter who you were. Kylo was the complete opposite, hating when people called him and preferred text messages if he could get away with it. He liked having records of conversations when he could, as proof if he ever needed any.

Kylo’s got his big nose pressed right into your cheek, so you put your cousin on speaker as soon as she answered.

“What the fuck did you do on Monday?” Gwen greeted you, your whole family nothing but blunt, apparently.

“Good morning Gwendoline my dear.” You replied cheekily, letting her sigh crackle through the phone for a moment before asking, “Are you with her right now?”

“No, I’m at my place.” She said, and you hummed, pleased with that information.

“We need to talk, about a lot of things.” You prompted, and through the phone you and Kylo could hear sounds of cooking in background, Gwen no doubt making breakfast. She was just as much of an early riser as the two of you were it would seem.

“Alright, thing number one?” She asked, aggravated in that way that Gwen always seemed to be aggravated.

“Can you set up a meeting with Hux? At your place, preferably?” You answered her question with a question of your own, and even Kylo grumbled into your cheek at the prospect of having to deal with him today.

“You want him coming to Midtown?” Gwen was incredulous, and she had every right to be, considering the situation, but the situation at hand was getting out of hand and you were getting tired of it.

“Yeah, tell him it’s in his best interest.” You said, your free hand coming up to comb through Kylo’s freshly blow-dried hair where he was nuzzling into your neck.

“You’re not giving it to him, are you?” You could positively envision Gwen’s blonde eyebrows shooting up in surprise, making you chuckle just the smallest bit.

“No, but we’re going to start killing more of his people if he doesn’t show up.” You said, and she groaned loudly on the other end of the line.

“What the fuck _happened?_” She complained loudly over the sound of something sizzling on the stove.

“I’ll explain it when we’re there. Can you get the meeting?” You asked, growing impatient.

“I can get the meeting. He owes me anyway.” Gwen replied right away, and you appreciated the seriousness in her voice, no longer playing. “What time do you want?”

“As early as possible, thank you Gwen.” You smiled brightly, glad that this would work out – at least, you hoped it would.

“Wait,” Gwen said when you were just about to say goodbye, “What’s the next thing?”

“We’re going to come over early so I can talk to you in person, okay?” You sighed, thinking about exactly what happened yesterday.

“I can get Hux here at…” She trailed off, no doubt leaning over to look at the clock that she kept above the entryway to the kitchen, “Ten o’clock. Be here at nine?”

“See you at nine.” You affirmed.

With that, the line went dead and you let your phone rest back on the counter of the island. All those sounds of cooking had your stomach rumbling something fierce, and you turned to place a gentle smooch to Kylo’s chin, knowing he was no doubt just as hungry. Sex built up an appetite after all.

“Breakfast?” You asked, and though he didn’t smile, he did nod, and that was going to have to be enough for the moment.

* * *

When your stomachs were full and Kylo was in a slightly better mood – hanger was such a bitch, you thought to yourself with a slight smile – you and your husband found yourselves in the backseat of one of the cars, Dopheld weaving expertly in and out of traffic on the way to Gwen’s apartment.

Kylo checked his watch, his jaw working as he stared out the window, his hand hot on your thigh. He had decided to wear one of his nicer suits, black as night that showed off all his angles and muscles in a very refined manner. You leaned your head on his shoulder, careful not to jostle the guns that were hidden away in his suspender holster, and covered his hand with your own.

He wasn’t in the mood for talking, and that was okay. The traffic wasn’t terrible for this time of morning, thankfully. Rush hour never went away, but on your way to the Plaza for whatever reason it wasn’t so congested – a small thing to be grateful for, but you were grateful nonetheless.

The Plaza’s condo apartments were truly something to behold, you couldn’t help but think as Dopheld pulled up to the front entryway and a valet opened the door for you. When you and Kylo first began looking for places to live, this building had been high up on your list but they didn’t have any units available at the top, and you had so badly wanted a penthouse.

Now that Gwen lived here though, you were always eager to visit, the gorgeous French style something that you had always been a fan of.

Kylo tipped the valet nicely, his arm sliding around your waist as the two of you walked through the front doors and over to the reception desk.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ren, a pleasure.” The security guard at the desk stood to greet you.

“Thank you Norman.” You smiled warmly at him.

He had been the security guard for this building for almost twenty years, and you never once saw him without a genuine smile on his face. He knew very little about you or your family, only that Gwen must be important if she could afford to buy a condo outright, must be wealthy enough. He didn’t have any inkling of mob activity, but he was always more than happy to give you whatever information you wanted, simply by virtue of you and your cousin being kind to him. Too many people thought themselves above speaking to the door man or the security guard, but not you.

“Could you please phone up to my cousin and let her know we’re here?” You asked, not wanting to catch Gwen by surprise, even if you were supposed to meet in exactly five minutes.

“Yes ma’am, of course ma’am.” Norman said, already picking up the phone to begin dialing her extension.

“Oh Norman?” You asked, trying your best to be nonchalant, “Has anyone else come to see my cousin today?”

“No ma’am, not even covertly.” Norman only winked at you, holding the phone up to his ear.

“Thank you.” You mouthed, as Kylo steered you in the direction of the elevators.

It’s tense, in the elevator. The gold doors had opened up for you and your husband with no one inside, and for that you were thankful, and now it’s just you and Kylo leaning up against the dark wood wall. You looked up at the numbers as they ticked by, Kylo still as a statue by your side. You knew he’s in a bad mood, and you took a deep breath, let your eyes close as the music that played softly over the speakers washed over you. You knew Kylo’s not listening, he’s got a million thoughts running through his head, and he should.

He should but, 

“It’s going to be fine.” You said, eyes still closed, letting yourself feel the rush of the elevator as it took you higher and higher.

Beside you, Kylo took a half-step closer to you, the hand on your hip tightening just slightly. He pulled you flush against him in these small motions, as if you maybe wouldn’t notice if he did it slowly instead of all at once. In the reflection of the ornate mirror, you peeked an eye open to see his deep scowl.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, a long one, right on one of his beauty marks which you so adored.

“I know.” He replied eventually, although his grip on you is still tight.

“He’s not going to pull any stunts, not here.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, looked at the pair of you in the reflection of the mirror, gave him a small smile to try and lighten the mood by saying, “Gwen’ll kill him.”

His scowl only deepened at that, and he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up in his own frustration.

“Not if I kill him first.” He said, voice deep deep deep. The baritone of it resonated through the small elevator, bounced around the wood and the mirrors and all the gold, landed straight into your chest.

“Be good.” You hummed.

“After what happened yesterday – ” He started but you gave him a quirked brow and he let out a harsh breath of aggravation through his nose.

“Because of what happened yesterday, _I’m_ the one in the hot seat.” You reminded him, the blood being on your hands this time, for the first time in a while.

“I’m going to fucking kill him, (Y/N) I don’t give a shit.” Kylo replied anyway, and you only hummed again, thoughtful.

“I know.” You said, because you did, everyone did, “But we have to at least try.”

“Why?” He didn’t like that, and sometimes you get reminded of his explosive temper, sometimes you get reminded of exactly why he was an attack dog for so many years, why he did all the dirty work. There’s a flash of danger in his eyes, one that you found yourself so drawn to, especially because you knew it’s all for you.

You could tell he’s itching to grab his guns out of their holsters right away, wanted to have both in his hands to spray Hux with bullets the moment he walked through the door. But that would cause a scene, and you thought to yourself that if anyone was going to cause a scene, it wasn’t going to be you.

“Because I said so.” You settled on, and he acquiesced with a clench of his jaw. “This isn’t the eighties honey, we can’t just go around blowing people’s guts out left and right. Certainly not on my cousin’s brand new, ten thousand dollar couch. You can kill him after we’ve talked to him.”

“If this were the eighties, he would have been taken care of a week ago.” He mumbled to himself, making you smile gently, thankful for his ability to just do what you tell him.

You moved to stand fully in front of him, smiled wider at the way his hands wrapped around your middle, as he collected you in his arms. You kissed him, careful to not smudge your lipstick. It wouldn’t do to look unkempt in the meeting, and you knew that if this goes well, you’ll let him do whatever he wants to you back at home.

You’d let him do whatever he wanted either way, you laugh to yourself, no matter which way this thing turns out. You just hoped it would go smoother than the dinner.

For now, he licked into your mouth and you could practically feel his shoulders loosening up their tension, as the elevator came to a slowed stop.

“I’m not saying you can’t kill him. All I’m saying is we need to talk to him first.” You whispered, as the bell dinged and the doors slid open, “I won’t stop a war from happening but I’m also not going to be the one to start it.”

He chewed his cheek at that, nodded once before asking for another kiss with a tip of your chin. You give it to him, a chaste little something that had him pliant and warm in your hands.

The walk from the elevator to Gwen’s apartment wasn’t far or eventful, the two of you hand in hand, stepping together in time. A quick knock to the front door had you face to face with your other cousin, Gwen’s younger brother who you hadn’t seen in _ages. _

“David!” You don’t hold back your excitement as you hug your cousin, “I didn’t know you were back, when did you get out?”

“Yesterday.” He replied, quickly detangling your arms from around him so Kylo wouldn’t throw a fit, and offering a hand to your husband for a firm shake.

Kylo took it with a nod of his head, still not in the mood to speak.

“And already back to work huh?” You grinned. What a surprise to see him! You were glad for this small bright spot of good news.

“You know pop, he likes keeping me out of trouble.” David shrugged sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah that worked so well the last time.” You rolled your eyes teasingly, making him only laugh.

David had slipped up accidentally and gotten himself arrested for resisting arrest and possession of an un-licensed weapon. That had given the family such a fucking headache that your uncle was this close to not even bothering to bail his own son out, just between the bullshit and the questioning and the searches. But clearly your uncle was all talk when it came to his family, because there David was, opening the front door wide enough that you and Kylo could step through the threshold and make yourselves comfortable.

“She’s in the living room.” He informed the two of you, and you gave his shoulder a light pat, truly glad to see him once again.

Gwen was looking exceptionally sharp from where she was standing entirely too dramatically, looking out the big windows of the living room. She was always one prone for a more understated sort of style, crisp clean pantsuits in white with silver accents, not like the dark and theatrical red and black that the Rens favored.

She turned to say something, probably some spiel she had prepared about calling last minute to set up meetings with weasels, but you only put your purse down on the coffee table and sat down on the soft white couch she had just gotten delivered the week prior.

“I’m going to cut right to the chase, because we only have so much time.” You said before she could even really open her mouth, “Roisin’s dead.”

Whatever her speech was going to be died on her tongue immediately at that, and her eyebrows did shoot up then, her arms dropping from where they had been crossed across her chest.

“Oh shit.” She said, making you nod.

“I killed her.” You continued.

“Oh, _shit._” Gwen took a few steps towards the couch, her jaw dropping at the news.

“Because she was sent to kill me.” You finished with a sigh, settling your back against the throw pillows.

“_Oh shit!_” Gwen sat herself down on the armchair opposite from where you were, blue eyes wide and absolutely shocked when she gasped, “(Y/N), do you know what this means?”

“No, do tell.” You rolled your eyes – of course you knew what it meant. You weren’t pleased about it, not one bit.

“And we just got them off our fucking backs, why would he do this?” Gwen groaned, ran her hand through her pixie cut in a manner that reminded you of your husband, who had taken it upon himself to stand behind you like an imposing monolith all in black.

“Someone’s been framing us for murders – we had the cops at the apartment on Sunday.” You said, and Gwen groaned, realizing that this meeting was going to be much more of a headache than she had already anticipated.

“What kind of bullshit week has this even been?” She grumbled into her palm as she tried to recover from being so stunned.

“When it rains it pours.” Your husband spoke up finally, making you look up at him with a smile, glad to see he was going to be, at the very least, cooperative.

Sometimes in meetings he didn’t utter a single word, just smoked his cigarette and glared, let you do all the talking. But you supposed he knew that this one would be involved, and you were glad to hear his baritone as he leaned down to brace himself on the back of the couch, kissing your cheek.

“Hi Kylo.” Gwen had been so wrapped up in the sudden news that she had forgotten to greet him, but it was all fine. Kylo wouldn’t dare hurt your cousin, not with the two of you being so close.

“Thanks for setting this up.” He said, his hand smoothing up your neck from behind you, caressing your chin as you kept just looking up at him.

He was funny looking from that view, upside down the way his mouth moved had you chuckling to yourself, you had a great view up his nose and was pleased to find it was squeaky clean.

“If you’re here to paint my house red I’m going to be pissed.” Gwen said, although she tried to say it playfully enough that it wouldn’t come across as being entirely accusatory.

“We really are just here to talk.” You tried to reassure her, but she only scoffed.

“Lately these talks have been getting more and more…aggressive.” Gwen stood from the couch and walked over to the little bar cart, poured herself just a glass of seltzer water. She had the old fashioned kind that you had to press down the pump on to carbonate the water, and you always thought that was so classic of her.

“I’m going to use the restroom.” Kylo excused himself, making you frown.

Had the ides of this meeting shaken him up so much that he really had to touch up in the bathroom? He smoothed your frown away with his thumb, a gesture you did to him what felt like a thousand times a day, and he kissed you.

“Okay honey.” You said, watching him walk away around the corner to freshen up.

You take advantage of the opportunity to not get Kylo so furious right before this meeting, and the moment he’s far enough away to be out of earshot you turn to your cousin.

“What’s Rey majoring in?” You asked, and Gwen sighed, handed you a bottle of water for yourself.

“Tax law.” Gwen scoffed.

That was good, you thought as you cracked open the water, took a big swig of it. Good that Gwen was suspicious too.

“When did she tell you?” You asked, trying to piece together what the fuck was going on with Kylo’s sister.

“Yesterday, after the shitshow at her mother’s.” Gwen replied easily.

“She lied.” You shook your head, taking another sip.

“Hm?” Gwen frowned, and you waved your hand around lazily.

“It was a lie.” You reiterated, and Gwen sighed, pinched at the bridge of her nose before cracking her neck.

“Does Kylo know?” She asked, and you shook your head again, surprising her.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm him, especially with this Hux bullshit.” You shrugged, and Gwen gave you a very pointed look.

“He has to find out eventually.” She said, and she was right.

“He will, I’m going to tell him tonight after I get can him calm enough to not jump in the car and cut her tongue out.” You hummed, rifling through your bag to search for a piece of gum. Kylo was a chewer, and you always had some on hand for him to work his jaw with so that it didn’t wind up causing him any damage.

“Please, I have a special interest in that tongue.” Gwen sighed again, making you roll your eyes.

“I bet.” You replied dryly, thinking to yourself of all the people in the world your cousin had to get involved with, it just had to be the one who wanted your husband six feet under. You unwrapped a piece of gum for yourself, got it started so Kylo could just take it from between your teeth, not looking up at your cousin when you asked, “She didn’t tell you anything, did she? About anything?”

“About what?” Gwen asked sarcastically.

“Anything.” You replied with an even stare.

“She doesn’t tell me a lot of stuff. They’re not as open as we are, you know.” Gwen said, and you knew she was telling the truth.

“Every family has their secrets.” You agreed, even the two of you had things you kept from one another, everyone with their own skeletons hiding in designer closets.

“Yes, but it’s not worth it to hide any of them from you.” Gwen said with a small laugh and a grin, “I don’t know why people bother trying.”

At that, Kylo returned from the bathroom exactly at ten o’clock, exactly when the doorbell rang.

You, Kylo, and Gwen all stood up, tried your best not to look like some gang that was ready to jump him. You wanted – no, needed, Hux to feel welcome, to feel relaxed. This wasn’t a plot to murder him, this genuinely was just an attempt to talk.

It never failed to surprise you how angular Hux was. He was thin, waifish almost, with obvious pads in his shoulder-seams to make himself look more imposing. But beside that even, it was his face. Like he was cut from glass, his nose and lips and cheekbones were all razor sharp. He reminded you of Tarkin in that way, as Hux came around to take your palm in his for a moment. You wondered if there were some pre-disposition for angular men to be as cold as their hands.

“Drink?” Gwen asked, making Hux give her a look.

“It’s ten o’clock in the morning.” He said, right as Kylo checked his watch. Hux may be dramatic, but he was punctual.

“And?” She asked her friend, who only rolled his eyes.

He made himself comfortable on Gwen’s couch, sitting right where you had just been. You didn’t mind, were more than happy to be pulled onto Kylo’s lap as he took the grand armchair near the softly lit fireplace.

“How’s your cousin?” Kylo asked by way of greeting.

“Dead, thanks.” Hux sniffed, as Gwen passed him to sit next to him on the couch. It was a tactic to not make him feel so confronted, you knew that, but it was still very strange to see her siding with him, so to speak.

“Imagine if you had called a meeting like this one to talk it out instead of making assumptions.” You mentioned coolly, “She might still be sipping cocktails with you.”

“Let’s talk.” Hux gestured to the openness of the room, and you looked at Kylo.

You could see in his eyes he wasn’t really in the mood to do the bulk of the conversation, so you took over for the time being.

“Here’s what I’ve got in my head as the series of events in the past week. You tell me what you think of them.” You suggested.

Hux was square-backed and still as a board as you listed the events off your fingers;

“Friday morning, the day of the dinner, two Englishmen rob a bodega in Hell’s Kitchen. Owner told us you had shown up sometime prior to that to shake him up, threaten him. Friday evening, you show up almost late to the dinner, with grand plans to take over Hell’s Kitchen. Two days later, cops show up at my doorstep to search the house for a murder that took place in Hell’s Kitchen. Later that evening, your cousins crash my anniversary dinner to try and kill me.”

“But then, come to find out last Monday while you were in D.C., a stranger in a dark car pulled over two Englishmen and hired them to rob the bodega in Hell’s Kitchen. One of the men claims he didn’t know who it was, but we know it couldn’t have been you because you weren’t in town. And then Roisin tells us the murder was of one of _your_ guys. So we can understand why you would think that, between us not giving you Hell’s Kitchen, your guy dying, and now me killing your cousin, that we’re clearly the ones fucking up all over town.”

After your whole speech, you made your point to take a long drink of water to soothe your throat, the room deadly silent while you hydrated yourself.

A moment or two later, you finished the bottle of water, placed it down on the coffee table, and looked Hux straight in the eye.

“But I have to assure you, it’s not us.” You said, although the gears were already working in his head.

“I see.” He says, voice clipped and short, angry suddenly.

“Do you?” You asked, genuinely curious if he knew exactly what he was getting himself into, “Because you’re going down the path of war with that stunt you pulled with your cousin, and you remember what happened the last time we all went there.” You said evenly.

That shuts Hux up quickly, because he _does _remember, and his already pale face begins to drain of any color that might have started to rise from his temper.

He takes a long sip of his whiskey, early morning be damned, and you don’t blame him.

“I’m not Snoke.” He said eventually, “I don’t pit people against one another.”

And you don’t altogether believe him, even though you can tell he isn’t lying in this moment. Hux was as scheming as they came, everyone knew it. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had plots up his sleeve right now, fingers in too many pies all across New York – all across the East coast.

“Maybe not, but _someone _is.” Kylo finally spoke up, Hux’s eyes snapping from yours to his and back again.

He was many things, but he wasn’t stupid, and he had learned not to ignore you from what had happened to Rotta.

“So what do you propose we do?” Hux asked, his lip trying not to curl up into a sneer.

You hum to yourself thoughtfully, as if your brain hadn’t been whirring to try and figure out what to propose all morning.

“I figure we can do one of two things,” You started, “We can either work together and come up with a plan to find out who has it out for the both of us, and snuff them out before they can pose any genuine threat. Or we can kill each other and everyone around us like they want us to.”

“The thought of working with you makes me want to be sick.” Hux scowled and narrowed his eyes, “I can’t trust you as far as I can throw you.”

“We’re not asking you to trust us. Just work with us.” Kylo said, jaw clenching.

You leaned down to give him a kiss, passing the gum into his mouth from your own in the process. When you leaned back up, you saw Hux’s face contorted with disgust at the lack of hygiene in that, and you couldn’t help but let a small satisfied smile grace your lips.

“Give me Hell’s Kitchen, and you’ve got yourself a deal.” Hux said, making everyone in the room groan.

“No.” Kylo said right away.

“Look we can investigate and find this person out on our own, but I think it would expedite the process significantly if we were to team up just for this. They won’t be expecting that, whoever it is knows the animosity between us.” You gesture to the tension that had clearly returned to the room.

“I told you my condition.” Hux said, stubborn as all hell.

“Hux, please be reasonable.” Gwen tried, speaking up for the first time since this whole conversation really began, but that only ruffled Hux’s feathers more.

“Why am I the one who has to be reasonable, hm?” He asked, quick as a whip, “It’s a simple request. I don’t want all of Midtown, although God knows I could do a better job running it than your sister is. I just want from 34th to 59th. That’s it.”

“Just because you want something doesn’t mean you get to have it.” Kylo said, hand twitching on your waist.

“Well isn’t that true for the both of us then.” Hux said scathingly, “If you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to today.”

He stood up without any further comment and made a motion to leave.

“So that’s it?” Kylo said, and your eyes bore into Hux’s, mentally pleading with him not to do this, not to go down this path.

“It is what it is.” Hux replied, making your eyes pinch shut in disappointment, a long sigh leaving from your chest. Hux gave a sharp nod to his friend, and was out the door.

The three of you are left in complete silence with his departure, all three of you unsure of what the fuck was going to happen next. Would he be the first one to make the declaration of war? Would that responsibility fall on your shoulders? On Kylo’s? Technically you had been the first one to draw blood, but it had been his fault, so the area was grey.

Almost as grey as the skies which clouded the view from up on the eighteenth floor of the apartment building.

“Hey Gwen,” Kylo asked, voice deep and mood sour, “How about that drink?”

* * *

When the two of you are home, many hours later, you watched as Kylo fiddled with his holster. There was business to attend to, bloody business, as it were. It seemed like more and more these days were returning to the days of old, with the way Kylo checked his ammo in the guns that he kept stashed on him.

“Please,” You said from your spot on the big plush bed, “Please be careful.”

“I’ll try my best.” Kylo said, although you knew he was mostly just in the mood to bloody someone up, get his hands dirty. Maybe he wouldn’t kill whoever the poor sonofabitch was, maybe he would.

He most likely would.

Okay, he definitely would, but you knew that the men who pissed him off usually had weapons of their own, and though he was fast he wasn’t perfect.

“Listen to me,” You say from the bed, shuffling to sit on your knees, opening your arms for him. Like a magnet, he is drawn to you, nearly rushes into your arms, and you pull him down down down to lay on the bed with you, tuck yourself around him, cage him, an attempt to get him to stay.

You know that he won’t, know that there’s people he has to take care of and take care of, but you can try, and you kiss him deeply before saying, “Any sign of bullshit, you get the fuck out, okay?”

“Okay.” Kylo replied, breathing in a deep lungful of your perfume, humming out on the exhale.

“How many?” You asked softly, pressing your forehead against his chest, burying your face in the soft dress shirt he wore.

“Three.” Kylo said, and you leaned back with a frown.

“No, two.” You argued.

“(Y/N) – ” Kylo started, but you shook your head, in no way allowing him to leave you with three of the Knights of Ren to guard the apartment.

The thought of war had him even more protective, even more possessive, you knew that. But you also knew that the more people had, the more likely Kylo would come back to you unscathed. You were willing to risk less security for yourself if it meant a better chance for your husband. After all, he was the one going out into the world and burning it down.

“You need them more than I do. Take one.” You insisted, voice final, unwavering and unwilling to change.

Kylo was stubborn, but he had nothing on you.

“Fine.” He said eventually, his big warm hands coming up to cup your cheek.

You closed your eyes and kissed him, kissed him until it felt like the two of you were just existing together as one single person, hearts beating and lungs breathing in time. You kissed him until your lips grew swollen and bitten and numb, tongues and teeth too sweet to stop. You kissed him until he groaned, until he had to tear himself away because you both knew that if you kissed him any longer, he’d fuck you, and then he’d never leave.

And as much as you never wanted him to leave, you knew that Dopheld was waiting for him downstairs, knew that the KoR were waiting for him somewhere else.

He gave you a lingering look, one to fill him with strength, to remind himself why he was going out in the first place, and you only give him a look of your own right back. And then he’s gone, out the door and out of the apartment, leaving you with a guard at your door and another in the lobby, until who the fuck knows when.

Not wanting to be in the bedroom all by yourself, you get off the big mattress and tie the sash of your robe ever tighter, slipping into Kylo’s slippers and shuffling around the apartment.

Your phone is in your pocket, and, against your better judgement, you get an idea.

You pluck it out from the robe and scroll through your contacts, scroll and scroll until your finger hovers over the name you were looking for. You hadn’t told him yet, you think to yourself, but you hadn’t anticipated him leaving to go slit someone’s throat.

The phone is dialing before you’ve officially made up your mind.

“What do you want?” She asks, voice annoyed, and you already have decided that this was maybe a bad idea.

“Hux is pissed. He might try something, and I didn’t want you to be blindsided.” You tried, lying.

“Oh like you blindsided me with Midtown?” She scoffed, and her voice is firmly set to hang up the phone on you as she muttered, “Thanks for the warning.”

“Rey – wait.” You start, knowing that this was probably your only chance, “I was wondering if you’d meet me for lunch tomorrow.”

There’s silence for a long while on the other end of the line, and you pulled the phone back enough to see if she _had _hung up on you. Thankfully, the phone conversation is still going, and you can only imagine that she’s needed a moment to collect herself, not anticipating that sort of request.

“At your apartment?” She asked finally, carefully, but you shook your head even though she couldn’t see.

“No, you pick a place.” You offered, trying to sweeten the deal, trying your fucking best to make yourself as unthreatening as possible.

“Will it be just us?” She asked, voice suspicious as she had every right to be.

You didn’t go anywhere without Kylo.

“If that would make you more comfortable.” You lied, although it’s convincing enough that she seemingly is stunned, because her tone is somewhat surprised and dazed when she suggests,

“Tea at the Baccarat?”

“I’ll be there at one.” You fished out a small note-pad and wrote down the time and place, and Rey doesn’t even say goodbye before she hangs up.

Kylo will be told when he comes home, you’ve decided. He’ll be told and then you’ll come up with some sort of plan to deal with her on top of dealing with everyone else. But until he does come home, you make yourself comfortable on the couch and pull up the On Demand, and wait and wait and wait until the front door latches open – no matter how long that is.

You smiled to yourself, feeling slightly victorious for having lured her into this. Because if there’s one thing that anyone knew, it was never to lie.

Not to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please feel free to leave a comment here or come yell with me about mob kylo over on my blog, you can find me on tumblr @babbushka ! <3 xx


	6. Tea

When he returned to you, he was bloody. Covered in it, the mess. He’s silent as he moved through the apartment, as if to not wake you, as if you weren’t already awake. You’re sitting on the big grey couch, wrapped up in your robe, concerned. You knew, you knew he was capable, but there’s something in the wait his gait is slowed slightly that made you anxious.

“Did you have fun?” You asked him, and he nodded with a sigh, one hand pressed to his side.

You reached out for him, and he without any hesitation removed the bloody palm from his waist, linked the fingers through yours.

You led him through the apartment, and he’s careful not to track blood on the carpeting as you go into the bathroom.

He’s not in the mood to talk, you could tell. But that was okay, he didn’t have to. He’s out of it, but that’s okay too, all he needs is a bath and some sleep. Normally you’d corral him into the shower, but there’s something in the weight of his shoulders that seemed to you like he was in need of a good soak. So, while you instructed him wordlessly to strip, you dumped salts and oils into the grand tub and went to the linens closet for rags that you could use to soak up and scrub away the evidence of this night.

“Show me?” You asked, sitting on the edge of the tub as it filled with hot water.

He’s naked before you, and he stepped in between your legs just as you told him. He’s exhausted, and you gave him a small loving smile as your hands smooth up the muscles of his strong thighs. He’s been stabbed, right in the abdomen, just below his belly button. You sucked in a deep breath and hummed out the exhale, dipping the wash cloth into the soapy water, ringing it out.

“This might sting.” You said softly, and he nodded, hands flexing and clenching into fists at his sides.

Other than those small movements, he didn’t show any sign of being in too much discomfort as you cleaned his wound. Although, you reasoned, nothing could really be more uncomfortable than being stabbed in the first place. The blood around the wound had dried and crusted, coagulated and already begun to heal. It wasn’t a deep cut, not a deep wound, thank goodness. Maybe only an inch or so in, nothing important compromised.

Still, an inch was deep enough for stitches, and you pointed to the medicine cabinet on the other side of the bathroom.

He knew exactly what you wanted, and he grabbed it with ease, the suture kit resting where it always did, on the top shelf. He handed it to you and watched you as you got to work.

You didn’t know, at this point, how many times you’d stitched him up. You were no medical student, no doctor, not by any means. You thought back to that very first time, the very first evening you had tried to save him, had tried so desperately to get his bleeding face to close. You hadn’t been very good then, hands shaking as tears blurred your vision, your resolve nearly cracked and broken, nearly shattered into nothingness, as evidence in his flesh from the mangled scar that splits all the way down to his throat.

You hadn’t been very good, but you had been good enough.

Now though, now you feel like you could do this blindfolded, the small seam of his wound closing evenly. He’d scar of course, but nothing like the gnarled mess that was the one on his face. You applied bandages on top of it with steady hands, waterproofed the area on his abdomen with a special patch that allowed him to happily sigh as he sunk into the tub.

Almost immediately, the water ran a sick pink, and your stomach churned because you knew that this time it was his.

You never had a problem with blood, not once. Not unless it was his.

You sat on the edge, carefully poured a cup of the water over his hair, red rivulets streaming from his handsome locks.

“Who did it?” You asked, because you had to know.

Kylo only sighed again, gestured to his pants that lay in a heap on the floor. You nudged the pants over to you with your foot, not wanting to get them stained with any more blood than they already were. The cleaners were going to have a field day with this one, you thought. The splatters which sprayed all across the soft fabric would no doubt be impossible to get out.

In the pocket was his little prize for you, his little trinket he brought back. He always brought something back for you, your man did.

Your eyes widened at the sight of it, the small golden ring. You could recognize that symbol anywhere, that imagery. You turned to him, and he only nodded, asked for your hand with his own. You gave it to him, and he slipped the ring on your middle finger. You already wore a ring there, you already wore a ring on all your fingers. But this one, this gift was no simple band, this one was ornate enough to win a spot on your hand, a display of your prize, of Kylo’s kill.

“We’re really in it now, aren’t we?” You asked, and he only leaned his head back against the tub, only sank down enough to blow bubbles in the frothy pink bloody suds that pooled around his chest.

* * *

He adored you, you knew. Worshipped the ground you walked on. He’s killed for you, would kill again for you, if only you said the word.

And you do, sometimes. When you’re in the mood, when you’re feeling scorned enough, when you’re feeling burned enough, when you’re feeling ruthless enough. You do.

But on the whole, Kylo had so much energy, so much pent up aggression he harbored inside his chest, that he doesn’t know what to do with; he doesn’t know what to do with it, so he spent it all on you. Better that, than killing. There’s no body count attached to his riches.

Well, not directly, anyway.

He decorated you with the finest things, cloaked you in nothing but luxury, ensured your appearance is exactly how you want it, exactly up to the standards you demand. And though you were no kept woman, not by any means, you wore the gifts happily, wore them eagerly, wore them with pride.

You had your favorites, because of course you did. It’s the jewelry, anyone who knew you would know, anyone who took one look at you would know how much you love jewelry. You’re adorned in gold from your head to your feet. The furs and the shoes and the bags and the stuff was all nice, but you really loved the jewelry.

Your ears sported diamonds encrusted into heavy thick karats, your neck a display of wealth all on its own. From the weight of your Magen David in solid gold, to the pretty braided chains which glinted in the light, you sparkled everywhere you walk. Your wrists were never bare, an elegant watch worth more than some apartments on the lower east side forever clasped around your pulse.

Not that you needed it of course, when Kylo was the one frequently checking the time.

He kissed them, all of them, each chain and pendant and diamond, each strand of gold spun across your body. He lavished the attention on them, on you, in the early light of dawn. It was five in the morning, as it always was when he wakes you, but this time he didn’t wake you with his hands sprawling across your body in that hungry hungry hungry way of his – no, he is far more careful with you, far more slow.

Purposeful.

You wondered if it was because of everything that was going on, everything that was going to happen.

“Kylo,” You whispered, stretching out the sleep from your calves as he brought his lips down like a soft rain across your skin, peppered kisses in his wake.

“Hmm?” He hummed into the spot below your ear, worrying your gold chain between his teeth.

At least he’s talking now, you thought to yourself, as your hands carded through his hair. It’s soft now that it’s clean, you smiled to yourself. Smiled only because somehow, somehow he always returned to this, to this handsome, strong, capable man. No matter how ragged he looked when he showed up after a job, no matter how out of it he had gotten in all the killing, he woke up to kiss you and be soft and sweet against your skin.

It was a shame that the only times he ever felt comfortable enough to be so soft, was the early dawn of twilight, was when he was in bed with you. It’s a shame you’d have to interrupt this morning ritual of his, this daily routine of how he worships your body.

“I have something we need to talk about.” You knew there was never going to be a good time for this, never going to be the right time.

But he was in a good mood, in a decent mood, anyway, lost in the touch smell sight of you. He sucked in a sharp breath and sank his teeth down into the crook where your shoulder met your neck, making you sigh out a happy little gasp of pleasure.

“Right now?” He grumbled, removing his face from your throat and lifting your hands to his lips.

You are covered in jewelry all over, but especially on your fingers. How could one forget to mention the way you have a ring on each one, bands snugly fit, perfectly fit, around all ten fingers. Not all of them had been gifts from Kylo, contrary to popular belief. Some had come from your family, before you were Mrs. Ren, before you were anyone’s wife. Back when you were simply a beloved daughter of one of the largest crime families in New York, back when you were the ultimate mob princess, you wore some of these rings.

Among these are the signet ring which bore your maiden crest, it lived forever on your pinky. A second signet, one that bore your husband’s name, lived on your second pinky.

Kylo kissed them both.

The new one, he didn’t.

“It’s about Rey.” You answered him, as he pressed a respectful kiss to your ring, the whole thing very on brand, when you thought about it.

Kylo liked to say that the old way of doing things was dead, that the old way of the mob was over. But sometimes, sometimes glimmers of the world which your husband so idolized shone through, in small gestures, small acts like this.

He kissed the wedding band, the engagement ring, the decorative and sentimental rings that were warm from your sleep, pressed your palms to the sides of his cheeks and kissed them too.

“I know.” He admitted, making you raise an eyebrow in mild surprise, when he said, “I know she’s lying.”

“You do?” You asked, wondering why he held that to himself, why he wouldn’t have gone out then and there to cut out her tongue, to shut her up. You wondered if he’s planning on it, if he’s waiting for you to give him the permission to do it.

He didn’t need your permission, not really, not technically.

But he’d never do anything without it.

He’s nodding, and your hands smoothed back into his hair once again, scratched gently at his scalp in that way that has him shuddering, has him melting into your embrace, practically purring against you as he kisses you deep.

“I recognized the look in your eye.” He said, and you smiled at that, at how he knew not because of his sister’s own actions, but because of yours. He’s not smiling, however, when he regarded you with cross-eyed vision from being so close, foreheads pressed together when he asked, “What are we going to do about her?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m meeting with her for brunch. You’re technically not invited.” You sighed, as Kylo rolled you both over, so that he could cradle your skull against his chest, so you could relax against the breadth of his body.

“Technically?” He asked, and your smile when you look up at him tells him everything he needs to know.

“Technically.” You winked, and he’s already preparing for a long fucking day.

“I’m hungry now.” He hummed, licking his lips, heat in his eyes as his pupils widened.

Knowing what he wanted, you’re more than happy to oblige, more than happy, eager. Your hips open up as your legs spread for him, and he took in a deep pleased breath as he shuffled his way down, kissed his way down your body.

You’re wet for him, body automatically craving him. Your hands cupped his shoulders, those strong broad muscles, tips of your fingers digging into the meat as he pried your legs farther, just far enough to wrap his huge arms around your thighs.

He nuzzled his face into your pussy, kissing and licking all the skin, all the flesh he could. His tongue parted your folds with ease, and he pressed his nose right up against your clit, right away, making you chuckle out a moan, a soft little gasp that only spurred him on.

“Oh Kylo,” You bit at your lips, arched your back for him, “You’re so – yes! – good.”

It was impossible, to gauge how long his tongue was, sometimes. Sometimes it felt as thick and heavy as his cock when he fucked you, sometimes it felt broad and wide, you could never tell. All you knew was he sucked and wriggled his way as far into your cunt as he could, thrusted his tongue deep into you, lapped up your slick and your juices like he was a man dying of thirst. Your hips bucked up against his face in little desperate motions you had no control over, your body just as hungry for the pleasure he gives you as he is of your taste.

And taste you he did, he ran his tongue over and over and over your folds, scooped up all the wetness he could with the curl of his tongue, that very same curl which echoed your toes as your feet rubbed against his sides, tangled in the soft sheets. 

“Mmm,” He coaxed an orgasm out of you, just by sheer pressure of his nose on your clit and his tongue dragging against your gspot.

But he wouldn’t be satisfied with just one, of course he wouldn’t. You were surprised he didn’t want to fuck you right away, didn’t want to come in you. Maybe he would, after he got his fill of turning you into a pliant trembling mess. You were already well on your way for that, a gentle warmth like liquid gold sloshing around in your veins as he pulled himself back up the bed, hand cupping your cunt.

“Where?” He asked, slipping two fingers up into you, making your head loll to the side on your pillow, making it roll towards him so he could kiss the moan off your lips as he fingered you.

“The Baccarat.” You gasped out, “We’re going for tea.”

He rolled his eyes, before pushing your head to the other side so he could sink his teeth into your throat, mark you up in that way of his that was too possessive and controlling. It made you moan.

“Why am I not surprised?” He muttered, adding a third finger into the mix and crooking them inside you, stroking the walls of your cunt as you whimpered and whined, wanting more friction.

“She – _honey_,” You tried, but moaned instead, sentence choked off. It was getting harder and harder to talk, especially when all you wanted was to beg to be fucked. “We need her to be comfortable, because otherwise she won’t talk.” You managed, and you could feel his expression, could feel the eyebrow raised against your neck.

“Is that what this is? You’re going to get her to talk?” He asked, smirking against you as your back arched some more, toes curling in the sheets, knees wanting to close in around his hand.

“Yes! I mean – oh fuck honey – I mean,” You whined, pressing your chest out, luring him in between your tits, “I’m going to get her to confess.”

Kylo took the bait, nuzzled his face into your cleavage, his thumb swirling little zig zags over your clit. His three fingers slowly thrust in and out of you as he bit at the flesh of your breasts, as he sucked on your nipple. You felt like you were on fire, tingling all over, and your mind was hazy, so hazy.

“You’re good at that.” Kylo said, and for a minute you didn’t even know what he was talking about.

“I’m good at a lot of things.” You replied with a smile, as he withdrew his fingers and wiped them on your hip in a way that made your nose crinkle.

“Hmm, are you?” He asked, dragging your hips down the bed enough to prop them up and slide his big cock in, now that you were properly stretched and warm and melting in a puddle of sex and lust and love. He bottomed out easily, his breathing heavy in your ears. He was so chatty today, in such a good mood today, you couldn’t help but think to yourself as he pushed all your thoughts out of your ears like mush.

“Watch it.” You tugged on his ear with a pleasure weak hand, before his hips began to move and all you could really come up with was, “Yes! Yes, thank you.”

He fucked you until the sun began to peek up over the city skyline, until the sound of traffic competed with the sound of his grunts loud in your ear. He moaned your name, over and over again, a prayer dripping from his lips as he nosed at your cheek, as he bruised the corner of your mouth with his tongue.

He was so attentive, so caring, so good to you, and you told him so.

“Handsome,” You purred, your pussy clenching down hard around him in an effort to make him keen, “My handsome man, look at how perfect you fill me. Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me?”

“Fuck, (Y/N), please – I – ” It’s his turn now, his turn to be overwhelmed with the feeling of you consuming him. Your cunt sucking him up into your body, your hands scratching bleeding marks, stripes of your nails down his back.

You marked his throat up in just the same manner as he had done yours, lips and teeth worrying the flesh there, declarations of ownership. Every part of you belonged to him wholeheartedly – but every part of him was yours just as equally.

“I love fucking you.” He grunted out, a rare display, “I love this pussy, _fuck_, you’re mine.”

“Come in me, please?” You encouraged, gave him the permission he needs, the praise he craved, a fist tight in his hair as you licked up his pule, licked up the sweat that’s begun to bead against his skin. He’s salty and musky, and tasted like sex, tasted like you. “Please, Kylo?”

He growled, his hips thrusting erratically until they’re not thrusting at all, until he’s just pushing you up up up the bed, up as far as he can get his cock into you. You squeezed his cock with your cunt, milked him for everything he’s worth, as he dropped himself down onto your chest. Your hands slipped over his back, smeared the sweat around as his hips rolled, ground against yours.

“(Y/N),” he still begged, still somehow ached for more, even as you could feel his come spreading inside you, could feel it coating your insides, painting every inch of you.

“Take what you need.” You whispered; voice hoarse as you combed your fingers gently through his hair.

He nodded, tears in his eyes from being so stimulated, muscles on fire as he fucked you through his orgasm, drool and spit stringing from his lips, his tongue as he wrapped his lips around one of your stiff nipples.

“Honey -- !” You hummed, drunk on him.

You came from that, from the feeling of his huge dick pushing his come in and out of you, from the way he rubbed right up against your gspot over and over again, from the way he tugged and sucked at your tits.

Pushing yourself as close to him as possible, your pleasure weak bodies rolled to the side, legs tucked around one another to keep his cock inside you still, inside you for as long as it would take before he softened, before the sweat began to cool and itch, before all his come and your come would begin to leak out of you and soil the sheets.

A crack of sunlight from between the curtains fell across his face. His eyes were so brown, you thought happily. So handsome and deep and dark and mysterious – except not really mysterious, not to you. He blinked at you, content. You smiled at him, lifted a hand to smooth back his hair. He didn’t smile back, but that was okay, smiles weren’t something that came easy to Kylo.

He wound his arms around you, big palms warm and clammy on your bare back, and he shuddered a little, the cool air of morning and the last of his pleasure sliding across his body.

“I want to go in with you.” He said, voice low, deep.

You smiled, cupped his cheeks in your hands and brought him in for a kiss, one that he’s so eager to meet that he accidentally clacked your teeth together for.

“You can’t.” You told him, remembering the promise you had made to Rey.

You at the very least, kept your promises.

Kylo knew this, and he grumbled about it, grumbled and muttered as one of his hands slid around to the star that rested against your chest, the pretty gold pendant that was warm and fogged up from the steam between your bodies.

“I know, but I want to.” He said, deadly serious, even in the playful atmosphere of your post-sex glow. “Are you going to record her?” He asked, nudging the underside of your chin so your head could tip back, so he could softly kiss at your pulse, so he could soothe the angry marks he littered there.

“She’s not stupid, she’ll know that something’s up if I have the phone right there on the table and I don’t touch it at all.” You hummed, cradling the back of his head as he smeared his love against your skin.

“Take my phone.” He suggested, pulling away just long enough to reach across the big bed and grab at his phone, handing it to you even though you wouldn’t have to leave for a good couple hours. “Put it on airplane mode so no one bothers you and leave it in your purse. That way you can have yours to scroll through and it won’t be so suspicious. I’ll be watching from the other side of the street in case there’s trouble.”

You grinned, it was a good idea. You could have the purse right in your lap, or even better, on the side of the table so it would be between the two of you during lunch. You didn’t really like the thought of not being able to communicate with Kylo, but if he was watching you like a hawk then it didn’t really matter too much, you reasoned.

“Do you think she’s running business behind my back?” Kylo asked, deadly deathly serious, so serious that it reminded you of why you were the one meeting with Rey today, and not him. “Tell me honestly.”

“Honestly? No, I don’t think she’s capable of it.” You said, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t think she’s incapable of anything.”

The sun began to rise more fully, and that crack of light broadened into a thick beam that illuminated the scarred side of your husband’s face. He really was so handsome, you thought, with his dark hair splayed out on the pillow like that, his features so strong, so striking.

Sometimes, if you looked too long at Kylo, at his scar, you remember that night. You remember the agony, the heartbreak, the terror of him bleeding out and dying on your floor in the bathroom. You remembered the taste of blood and iron and copper, remembered the tears and the decay and the fury, blind fury that coursed through your veins as you begged and pleaded for the universe to spare him, to keep him with you.

Sometimes, if you looked too long at Kylo, you remembered why he had the scar in the first place. You remembered the murder, how his father still laid at the bottom of a river only you knew, the bottom of a chasm where he was no doubt eaten away, washed away by his own misfortune and poor luck, his own poor choices. You remembered the withered old man who had ordered the domino to drop, the catalyst to form, the chain reaction to take place.

Sometimes, if you looked too long at Kylo, you remembered what you did to him, to Snoke. 

But you’re looking at Kylo, and Kylo was looking at you, and for now, the only thoughts in your head were of how pleased you felt, how warm and relaxed, in his embrace.

* * *

You got there early, of course.

Dressed to the absolute nines, from your head down to your toes, you sat in a plush arm chair against the window, an interesting glass texture providing some privacy from the onlookers on the street as they walked past. Still, through the window you saw the shape of the cars parked across the street.

Kylo was in one, one of the older cars that you didn’t take out too often so it wouldn’t be so suspicious, and then the car Dopheld had parked. Normally you felt quite bad, just having the driver sitting around and waiting for you, normally you told him to go do whatever it was he wanted to pass the time. He certainly had the funds to shop if he wanted, or to grab a bite to eat where he felt in the mood. But he had insisted on staying right outside, so that’s where he was.

The Baccarat was a charming little hotel, you thought as you waited, posture relaxed but not too relaxed, alert yet not overly stiff. You had a clipping from the morning’s newspaper in your lap resting against one of your thighs where your legs were one over the over, a pen in hand as you went down and across the little checkerboard of clues.

The tea room was very different from the one at the Plaza, not that that was a bad thing. It had an air of looking almost like a high end salon, or like a lobby, not at all like a restaurant. The walls were a champagne pink color, and there were no real tables, rather plush armchairs with circular coffee tables to provide an atmosphere of a more intimate relaxed brunch. The chandeliers were clean and the light reflected nicely off the many crystal vases that decorated the place. You thought there should be something in those vases, like fresh flowers, or any sign or live plants for that matter, but you didn’t care too much.

You did however, take notice of the strange shelving units made of polished silver metal, which housed all sorts of nick-knacks that you assumed were meant to populate the area with visual interest. You weren’t sure how you felt about it all, and returned your attention to the task in your lap, as you waited for Rey to show up.

When she finally did, you were nearly done with the puzzle before you. The click of her heels on the chevron wood flooring was well timed, you thought, as the armchair across from you pulled out and your sister in law sat down.

“Do you like crosswords?” You asked by way of greeting, circling the final clue and folding the piece of newspaper up.

“Am I late?” Rey asked, just a little too shy of defensive.

“Hm?” You replied, finally looking up at her and giving her a warm smile, “No, no you’re right on time.”

Rey fixed her hair and pushed her seat closer to the little coffee table, took a deep breath and looked out the window, only to find the sight of the street blurred and obscured by the wavy glass.

“There was traffic.” She said, her shoulders too square.

“There’s always traffic.” You replied, echoing something she herself had snapped at your husband, only a couple days ago.

How strange, that the dinner was only a couple days ago? That it hadn’t barely been a week since this shitshow had started. It never ceased to amaze you, the irony of the universe. Some months there was nothing of any interest happening, no drama, no scandals – just the work. But some months, some months it felt like there was a new crisis every day.

You wondered if there’d be one today too.

“Do you?” You asked, because Rey still hadn’t answered your question, and you were genuinely curious about the answer.

“Do I what?” Rey asked, too wrapped up in her own mind to know what you meant.

“Like them, crosswords.” You clarified, already watching her, already reading her.

“Sometimes.” She admitted, and you smiled, pleased that your dramatic little exit plan could be executed.

“I tend to do them in the mornings over coffee, but I figured why not pull out one for brunch while I waited.” You smiled, tried your best to be warm, even when you felt no such affection for her.

Rey looked around at the hotel tea room, gestured to the waiter to get their attention. They gave you both a nod, and began wrapping up whatever it was they were saying to one of the other guests who sat across the room at a different set of arm chairs and table.

“Were you waiting long?” Rey worried, and you shook your head, waved her off.

She was so tense.

“No not at all, I just wanted to ensure we got a table.” You explained, making room for the waiter who had just arrived at your table, to place down clean plates and polished silverware, to hand you both menus. “I’m particular about where I like to sit.”

You smiled at the nice waiter, and they left you alone to glance through the different teas and offerings that they served.

“Understandable.” Rey said, looking through the menu herself, which you thought was kind of funny considering she frequents the place. “Do you come here often, to the Baccarat?”

“Not nearly as much as I would like! We tend to favor tea at the Plaza, since Gwen lives there and everything. I think I can count on one hand the amount of times that I’ve been here.” You put the menu down, and folded the white linen napkin in your lap, an action which Rey mirrored automatically.

“Gwen likes the Plaza better too, but it’s hard getting her out of the apartment sometimes, so I ask to come here. Nice change of scenery.” She said, a fond smile gracing her lips.

You felt bad, because no doubt after today, after this week, after all this was over, she wouldn’t be seeing Gwen again.

“Definitely a change of scenery, and their menu is just as varied. I already know what I’m ordering.” You tried to keep the conversation light, tried keeping her as comfortable as possible before all the questions began. Because they would begin, once you both had some tea in your bodies, some sandwiches in your hand.

Tea and sandwiches made everything much easier, you found.

“And what might that be?” Rey asked.

“I was hoping you’d indulge me in sharing the Sultan Abdulaziz.” You smiled, and there was a look of shock on her face for all of a moment before she schooled her expression into something more controlled.

“That’s what I prefer to order, you’re in luck.” She said, and you resisted the urge to bite out an, _I know._

“Oh, am I?” You teased, the playful tone in your voice calming her a little, her shoulders softening into the back of the armchair, “Well I’m glad that worked out.”

And as you gave her a smile, and she smiled back, you couldn’t help but think to yourself that she didn’t know what the hell she was in for. 


	7. Rat

The tea you had chosen was a five course, three hour affair. You had figured that would be plenty of time to charm and chat, to catch up and gossip like normal people do. It was what everyone around you was doing, at the very least.

The Turkish afternoon set was very charming, and reminded you of all the wonderful memories you had with Kylo, going abroad to the gorgeous vacation home in Turkey that he owned. He had properties all over the world, but that was definitely one of your favorites, and it made the afternoon much more enjoyable.

The tea itself was brought out in a golden camel teapot, which you thought was only a little tacky, in that way that overly luxurious places tended to be. In addition to the tea though, there was a rosewater lemonade that was brought out with the first course.

Since it was only the first, the portions were small, but you didn’t care too much. You knew you’d be full by the end of it. Dried fruits and nuts decorated a golden tray, and you were careful to clean your teeth of the dried apricots and figs when you asked,

“NYU or Columbia?”

Rey hadn’t been expecting that question, clearly, if the way she coughed around the sweet walnuts was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, soothing her throat with some of the tea, the Dunes de Sahara that she was currently on her second cup of.

“Tax law, isn’t it? Are you at NYU or Columbia?” You clarified, really wondering if there would ever be an instance that she would just use her own context clues so you wouldn’t have to go repeating yourself all the time.

“Oh, Columbia.” She replied, dabbing her mouth with the linen cloth and reaching for the dried dates.

“You have a full schedule, I’m assuming.” You nodded, and she sighed.

“Yes. It’s very, pardon my pun, taxing.” Rey chuckled slightly at her own joke. If you weren’t so suspicious of her, then you might’ve laughed too. “I’m enrolled in the maximum amount of classes, currently. Although the drop period hasn’t passed yet, so I might lighten the load a little, depending.”

There was no way you could envision her dropping a class normally – you knew how she had been in high school when you both attended together. You saw how she took on more classes than anyone else, more after-school extracurriculars, more clubs.

Her dropping a class was only more reason to believe that she was doing something, something that was going to cause another schism in the family, something that was going to start another war – and you had proof.

You only needed her to admit it.

“Well then I am extra glad that this worked out. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your studies for too long, but it’s been a while since we’ve spent time together.” You commented.

“I don’t think I’ve actually ever spent time with you like this.” Rey said quietly, “The two of us alone, I mean.”

You both knew why, you knew. It wasn’t hard to guess, what with the way she had gone after her brother, what with the way she was so hell bent on killing him, that night so many years ago.

You took a sip of your tea, and smiled falsely at the waiter when they removed the golden tray of the first course, and replaced it with the second.

On top of a crystal dish were filo puff pastries filled with lamb and feta cheese, pistachio finger-cakes, and crackers with dates.

“Kylo’s very protective, isn’t he. When I went to Columbia he enrolled in all the same classes just to put himself at ease.” You said, reaching for one of the pastries, placing it on your pretty plate and using the polished silverware to cut into it.

“You’re an alumnus?” Rey’s hand froze as she reached for her own pastry, and you smiled.

“Of course, didn’t you know?” You asked, paying her body language no visible mind, “Spent quite a lot of time in Arthur W. Diamond.”

“Me too, there and the library.” Rey said, and you did glance up at her then.

“That is the library.” You blinked, watching.

She knew, you could tell she knew, that she was fucked.

You only were trying to prove a point. She knew that too.

“Oh, yeah, right, that’s what I meant.” She said unconvincingly, busying herself with the pastry, cutting it into many pieces of exactly the same size and shape, a nervous habit.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go back and get a secondary degree, maybe another masters, I don’t know. Is Professor Carmichael still there? I loved taking classes that professor taught, we became good friends.” You asked, luring her into a trap.

“He is! I see him in the hallways sometimes.” Rey nodded enthusiastically, “I’ll ask and see if he remembers you.”

Professor Carmichael died two years ago, you and Kylo had gone to the funeral.

But she didn’t need to know that.

“That would be wonderful! You could ask after you visit the deli.” You said, pleased with yourself for this little segue.

Rey’s hands went deathly still. 

She was frozen for some time, you only watching her, only taking in her posture and the way her pulse jumped in her throat. You wondered what it must be like, to be prey.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Rey blinked, and oh how funny it was, to watch her immediately tense up.

To watch her lie.

“Don’t you frequent the Hamilton deli, on Amsterdam Avenue?” You asked, picking up your phone which had been resting on the table.

Her eyes zeroed in on the phone, and you could tell she was suspicious, could tell she was already thinking that you were using it to record her. She didn’t need to know that Kylo’s phone was safely tucked away in your purse, microphone facing her through the thin fabric.

“No, I’ve never been there before.” She lied.

You didn’t even need to use your years and years of observational skills to tell, didn’t even need to look at her to tell she was lying, because you were sifting through your screenshots in the cell phone gallery, looking for one piece of incriminating evidence.

“That’s funny because this is a reply text message from your cell phone number, to an unsaved number. It says, ’I'm busy that weekend. Let’s meet on Monday, our usual spot on Amsterdam.” You said, finally finding it, turning the phone screen to face her, “Or, am I mistaken?”

“How did you get that?” She asked, defensive. So defensive.

She knew she was fucked, why did she bother making this more difficult than it already needed to be?

“A little birdie sent it my way.” You replied.

It was easy to forget, you figured, that your family had connections with all the crooked cops in the city. It was easy to forget that there were people who sent in reports, people who made back alley deals, people who took bribes and offered them to the mob. Cops weren’t all squeaky clean and sunshine the way the mayor was painting them, the way some of these bootlickers were painting them.

No, they were just as slimy and grimy and corrupt as anyone else – maybe even more so.

It was a cop who sent you that screenshot.

Which meant it was a cop that Rey had spoken to. 

“So you do visit the deli.” You asked again, and this time, this time Rey had no choice but to play along, unless she was stupid.

She may have been a moron, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Yes.” Rey finally said, taking another big sip of her tea.

“Regularly.” You said, no longer a question.

“What’s this about?” Rey’s eyes narrowed, that squirrely fear of her giving way to the frustration of being caught.

You shrugged, putting the phone away, tucking it into your pocket. Rey followed the movement carefully, and part of you wondered if she thought you were going to pull out a gun and kill her right there. You could, of course, but you wouldn’t. For what she had done, what she was doing, she was in for something far more gruesome.

Today was only a warning.

You took a sip of the lemonade.

“I wonder who you meet there.” You said, nonchalant.

“Just some friends.” Rey replied.

The waiter decided that that was the best time to come in and clear away the plates, to exchange the pretty crystal dish for a three-tiered tray of stirling silver.

This was the course you were most looking forward to, if you were being honest. The top tier of the tray held a sunflower fennel Turkish bagel, the second tray had chicken pastilla, and a fun variety of dips, and the bottom tray had an assortment of things to go with the bagel. You immediately went straight for the apricot saffron jam, and watched as Rey tried her best to keep her hands from shaking as she served herself some baba ghanoush. 

“It must be very good food, or they must be very good friends, for you to regularly take time out of your very full schedule.” You said.

“It’s not so busy.” She replied, and you raised a brow.

“You just said you’re taking the maximum amount of classes.” You challenged, and she blinked rapidly, trying to backtrack.

“I meant it’s not so busy right now, at this point in the semester.” She lied, “We help each other study.”

“I didn’t think someone so bright would need help studying.” You mused, taking a crisp crunchy bite out of the pastilla.

Rey must have been at her tipping point, because her jaw was clenched and her fists were tight on the silverware she held. You had a fleeting thought that she would lunge at you from across the table, the knife in her hand particularly tense.

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” She hissed instead, and you raised an eyebrow.

“What am I implying?” You asked, which she didn’t seem to appreciate too much.

“That I’m _cavorting_ with people.” She tried to keep her voice down as to not draw attention to herself, although her temper and that firey sprit that always reminded you so much of her late grandfather, wanted otherwise.

“Are you?” You asked evenly, hoping she’ll just get over with it and fess up.

“No.” She lied instead, and you cocked your head.

“Then why was that your first impulse I wonder?” You hummed, taking a sip of the tea.

“I’m used to people accusing me of things I didn’t do.” Rey said and you almost wanted to laugh out loud.

“Who’s throwing out accusations?” You said instead, your own attitude starting to become a little snippy, starting to become a little more sharp around the edges. “I just think it’s interesting that you make such an effort to meet your new friends. You don’t even take the time to properly control your slice of the city which you so desperately want to keep. I wonder if Gwen knows.”

“Why should she?” Rey scoffed, making you shrug.

“Keeping secrets isn’t the best way to maintain a healthy relationship.” You said.

“No one in this family would know a healthy relationship if it bit them in the ass.” She countered.

That caught you off guard a little, and you did have to admit it was funny. You chuckled a bit into the teacup, careful not to let the short burst of air blow too much of the steam away.

“Probably not.” You replied, before once again repeating yourself, “So which is it?”

“What?” Rey asked, and part of you wanted to strangle her right then and there.

“Is the food good, or are the “friends” good?” You asked.

“The food’s pretty fucking good.” Rey admitted.

“I’ve only been there one time, do you know what I ordered?” You asked, smiling as you wiped the corner of your mouth, as you finished your Turkish bagel and cracked the joints in your neck, your knuckles.

“Do tell.” Rey said, sarcastically and through gritted teeth.

“The N.Y.P.D.” You said easily, so easily, watching as the color drained from her face.

It was an expression you had only seen on her once before.

* * *

You’re seething, eyes red-rimmed, blood staining your chin, your cheeks. Fury raged through you as you blinked away the hot stinging tears in your eyes, exhausted and overwhelmed and far too keyed up all at the same time.

You were hunting, hunting him down. On your way to rip him apart limb from limb, on your way to gouge out his eyes and yank his heart straight out of his throat.

Snoke.

The man who had ordered your beloved to kill his father, which he had done! Which he had done so well, so deservingly – it hadn’t been enough. Not enough for Snoke, not enough for him who lured him into a trap for his sister to strike him down. The wretched old man, the monster who had taken your Kylo away from you, who had warped and twisted him into a puppet who had to obey.

Well, he didn’t have to obey any longer, not anymore.

Kylo was passed out, blacked out in your bed. You had found him had saved him, had sewn the chasm of his face back together with ugly fucked up stitches because you didn’t know how to do any better, you didn’t know. You had never done anything like this before, had never even seen it done. Nothing but sheer force and willpower had pushed your fingers forward, nothing but blind determination and fear had given you any sense of calm.

Were you calm?

You left him in your bed, stole his keys, and were now flying down the roads. Adrenaline is pounding through your veins, blood in your ears as it rushes behind your temple. You’re speeding, your foot slammed on the gas pedal as you rip through the streets of some small Jersey city. The address in Kylo’s GPS, in Kylo’s car, was leading you to him, to the biggest, meanest boss on the East coast.

You didn’t have anything, nothing to fight him with, nothing to kill him with. But you’re too angry, too furious, too filled with rage to stop yourself from going after him.

You don’t even know how you get there, when the GPS concludes, when you’re slamming the brakes and parking the car, turning it off. You don’t know how long it took, don’t know where you are. All you know is that somewhere inside a shitty warehouse, dilapidated and crumbling, is the man who sent your Kylo to die.

On the wall of the warehouse, in the very first room you creep into, there’s an axe in a glass case. Without thinking, you punch through the glass, send it shattering, send the alarm ringing blaring screaming. The lights flash, and the siren is so loud, and you yank the axe out from the small case, hold it in your hands.

You’re deranged. You don’t know how many men you cut down, on your way to Snoke.

There were rumors about it, rumors of the massacre, the way you had taken on a team of people. All his guards came pouring in, swarming from the depths of the warehouse with their big guns and their poor aim. Maybe if Snoke hadn’t sent Kylo away, hadn’t betrayed him, then he’d still have his attack dogs.

Now he didn’t have anything at all.

It was that night, that you knew how Kylo felt. How he got so out of it, in a trance, when he killed. You had never felt like that before, had never heard the sick crunch of bone as the heavy blade of the axe swung through it, had never heard the screams of someone as their light faded from their eyes.

The screams were muffled by the alarms, the slip and slide of their blood illuminated by the flashing lights, but you didn’t care, you could hear see feel smell it anyway. You were in a frenzy, like a shark hunting for blood.

You were hungry for it, hungry for the death you inflicted.

They had hurt him, had lured him into a trap where his own death was the only outcome, where the dominos would tip and he would fall. They didn’t know he was alive, they didn’t know he was fighting the reaper tooth and nail underneath your expensive satin sheets in your childhood bedroom, they didn’t know he was going to make it.

They wouldn’t make it.

Your muscles are burning by the time you’ve cut them all down, chops of your axe to their limbs, their necks. You’ve been shot, you had to have been, there’s no way you haven’t been, with how many they were. But you can’t feel it, can’t feel if there’s a bullet lodged in you somewhere.

You can’t die yet, you reason. If you die, you’re taking Snoke with you.

You can’t die until you get to Snoke.

The warehouse is like a maze, one large and winding thing, metal walls and grey floors, lights that bounce around off the rusting shelves and grates. You open unlocked doors, kick down locked ones, try your best not to scream as you cry, as you sob. You can’t stop crying, fear gripping your chest, squeezing at your heart as you try try try every door you come across, axe bloody and dripping on the cement in your wake.

You think of him, of Kylo. Of the man you love so desperately. You had never told him, hadn’t told him before that night, before only an hour ago. You never were given the chance, this withered monster having stolen that from you.

You wonder how much else he stole, what else you could have had.

Because you have him now, Kylo. You have him. He cried in your arms when you picked him up off the street, out of the alley. He sobbed into your hair, not coherent or even really that conscious, dead weight in your grip as you dragged him through the streets, dragged him to your house.

It was just your name, on his lips, when you sewed him shut. Just your name, over and over again, pleading, hoping it was you who had rescued him. And it was, you told him again and again, it was you, you were there, there with him.

He kissed you, when you had healed him, when his face was bandaged up to the best of your ability, he kissed you.

That was your first kiss, and you can’t help but wonder, if Snoke hadn’t been around what your first kiss might have been. You’re praying it’s not your first kiss goodbye, praying that by the time you get back to him, he’ll be there to hold you the way he clung to you.

You’re surprised to see her, when you make it to the right room, the red lights blaring, washing the whole warehouse in an altogether evil atmosphere of violence and rage. You don’t expect her, and you lunge, tackle her to the ground, pressing the bar of your axe up against her throat, choking her as blood and spit spatters onto her face from the force of your anger.

“I’ll kill you!” You scream at her, “I’ll fucking kill you for what you’ve done!”

Because it’s Rey, Rey who split your Kylo’s face in two, Rey who stabbed him in the shoulder, Rey who shot him in the stomach. She’s there, choking under the weight of your axe, body convulsing and eyes bloodshot and angry. You don’t know why, but she’s there.

Rey, his sister, his younger sister, your friend, your classmate, power hungry in her own right.

“(Y/N)!” Rey struggles, chokes, red in the face, blood on her face – or is it just the lights? You don’t know, you don’t care.

You’re too angry.

“Ah,” A voice cuts through the darkness, something chilling that dumps down your spine. “So this is the (Y/N) that I’ve heard so much about.”

You snap your head up, searching in the blinding pulsing light for where the fuck he is, where the monster is hiding. Suddenly it’s like you’ve been electrified, and you’re frantically abandoning Rey’s body from where he’s gasping out on the floor, stalking the room, trying to squint through the lights at him.

“Kylo’s told me so much about you.” The voice, deep and dark and vile, bounces around the walls.

“Show yourself!” You shout, your whole body trembling, shaking with rage.

“Why? So you can cut me to pieces like you did my guards? No, I don’t think so.” The voice laughs, laughs and laughs, coming from all around the room, all angles, all sides.

You spin in a slow circle, as you try to catch shadows on the walls.

“You sick son of a bitch I said show yourself!” You’re practically foaming at the mouth, panting, breath ragged as you gulp down air. You have a splitting headache, you’re still crying, bleeding from a wound in your leg, hands numb from the grip you keep on your weapon.

“Put down the axe, and I will.” Snoke says. You drop it without question – you don’t need the axe to kill him, you’ll find another way. You just need him to show himself.

He steps out of the shadows then, a crippled old thing. He’s so much older than you had thought, than you had ever anticipated. He must be nearing ninety, from the age in his skin, his sunken face, hollow eyes. He’s bald, hunched over and spindly.

You hate him.

“Good, good girl. At least one of you can follow orders.” He chuckles, and you want to be sick, want to kill him. You’re going to kill him.

“Is that why you tricked him? Because he wouldn’t blindly obey you anymore?” You sobbed, unable to even look at him, you’re so repulsed.

“My plans for Kylo were set in motion the first day I met him, he was always destined for this.” Snoke shook his head.

He rushes towards you and grabs you, a grip far too strong for the man’s age, as he pulls out a gun and presses it to your cheek. You can feel the cold bite of the metal digging into your skin, even through the warm crust of blood that’s dried on your face.

“He was a young frightened child and you killed him.” Despite this, you shake, so angry, so livid. You need to think, you need to figure out a way to get out of this hold he has you in.

“He’s dead?” Rey asks from her spot on the floor, not having moved one fucking inch from where you left her.

“No thanks to you.” You lie, you lie and you pray it is a lie, you plead that it’s a lie.

“Shut up!” Snoke says, the arm that was tight around your middle now grabbing your jaw, crushing your chin in his hand as he spits on the floor and grumbles, “You know, I really wish Kylo had never met you.”

“I could say the same.” You say, before taking your opportunity.

You bite down on his hand, hard. So hard that he shouts out in pain and releases you just enough that you can twist yourself out of his hold. You shove Snoke to the floor as you kick the gun out of his hand, the thing spiraling across the cement floor as his head cracks against it. He’s old, he’s fragile, and he doesn’t get up quickly, you’re glad to find as you scramble to find your axe.

Rey screams as you swing the blade down across his ankle, as you cleave through the bone there, chopping his feet off. Snoke screams in pain, a horrible, mangled sound, like he’s never been hurt before, like no one has ever dared to hurt him. He hunches over on the floor, his hands grasping for the stubborn end of his leg.

You swing the axe down again with a yell, a rage filled hysterical shout, hacking through his arms.

There is so much blood, so much that Rey is running away from it, climbing up onto a stack of metal grates to avoid it touching her, to avoid getting it all over her. You lose your footing in it, hands scrabbling against the cement, his blood hot and thick as it pours from his limbs.

You don’t stop until he’s nearly unrecognizable, until he’s completely mangled, chopped into little pieces. You had known, of course you had known that he was human underneath the evil veneer of sickly grey skin, but to see it all laid bare was something you hadn’t been expecting, for whatever reason.

He was nothing more than a pile of bones and organs, skin flayed out and drenched in blood.

You were covered in it, sprayed and drenched from head to toe in it, and only once you had severed the head from his neck, did you drop the axe, did you stumble over onto the ground, did you lay yourself down on the cement and stare up at the flashing lights.

“Is he really dead?” Rey asks, voice small, scared.

She’s watching you from the metal grates, and you sigh.

You’re both too young for this kind of shit, nineteen year old killers. Well, technically, Rey hasn’t killed anyone yet. But the effort counted enough, you think.

“No.” You croak out, voice hoarse from all the screaming, all the shouting.

You’ve got your eyes closed, arms and legs spread out like you’re making snow angels, starfished right there on the concrete. You hear Rey get down from the metal grate, your heavy breathing not doing anything to drown out the noise of her standing at your feet.

When you crack an eye open, it’s to her offering you a hand.

“He killed my father.” Rey says, and you sigh as you take it.

“I know.” You reply, pulling her into a hug. “Han was his father too.”

“We need to get you out of here, before the cops come.” She says after she lets herself sigh into the hug, after she lets herself cry a little into your shoulder. When she pulls away, she’s got Snoke’s blood on your cheek. “I don’t know how to shut off the alarm.”

You nod, making sure to take the axe with you. You can’t leave it behind, can’t abandon the murder weapon, not here. You’ll dump it over the side of a bridge or something, but you can’t leave it here.

“What are you even doing here?” You ask as Rey pulls your arm across her shoulder, giving you support.

You’re definitely shot, you can feel it in your leg, now that the adrenaline high is winding down, you wince and grit your teeth through the pain. Your family is going to freak the fuck out when they find out you’re going to the hospital, but they’ll understand, you’ll make them understand.

“I was going to kill Snoke too.” Rey says, glancing back at the mess of gore behind the both of you, before asking, “Are you going to kill me?”

“If he dies from what you did to him, yes.” You reply honestly.

“Why do you care so much about him?” She wonders aloud, a blood-spattered frown knitting her brows.

“I’m in love with him.” You reply easily, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever said, like killing an entire warehouse of people was no challenge for you.

Because it wasn’t, not if it was for your man, your Kylo.

Rey is silent as she helps you limp across the warehouse, as she corrals you into the back of Kylo’s car, as she drives you to the hospital and calls your family, who calls just about everyone else.

And when the whole fucking crime world shows up to check on you, to make sure you’re okay after the surgery to get that bullet out of your leg, when the paths clear and you see the familiar mop of black hair and the bandaged face of your best friend cutting through the crowd, you smile.

* * *

In the present, Rey put down her teacup. She had the decency to at least look offended, which you appreciated, even if you knew it was all bullshit.

“Excuse me?” She asked, whispered, unable to speak any louder otherwise she’d be screaming, she’d be shouting, like she was so wont do to.

“Roast beef, onions, hot peppers, bacon, American cheese, lettuce, tomato and BBQ Sauce.” You replied quickly and with a bit of a smirk, “It’s delicious.”

“You don’t touch pork.” Rey said.

“That makes one of us.” You shot back.

She closed her eyes then, rubbed them with the pads of her fingers, slumped back into the chair. You wondered how it felt to be such a traitor, to be such a liar. You couldn’t ever imagine.

“You know, (Y/N), I have to say.” Rey shook her head, licked across her teeth and regarded you with steely eyes, “Sometimes I wish Kylo had never met you.”

Of all the things you thought she would say, that really wasn’t one of them. You couldn’t say you were surprised, because you weren’t, not really, not given the situation. If you hadn’t met Kylo, who knows where she might be, how successful, how rich, how powerful.

If you hadn’t met Kylo, you wouldn’t have been there to save him that night, wouldn’t have been there to stop the war that was brewing, that had already begun. Maybe she would have won, if you hadn’t been there.

But you were there.

You can’t help but laugh, a little something just at her expense.

“What’s so fucking funny?” She demanded to know, and you really did think she was going to stab you then, with the way she was fuming.

“Nothing,” You made a show of wiping away a tear from your eye, made a show of getting your chuckles under control as you said, “You’re just not the first person to say that to me.”

“Oh?” Rey rolled her eyes, “And here I thought I was original.”

“So did Snoke.” Your smile dropped, and it felt like the whole world went quiet.

Rey’s eyes widened, and she snapped her jaw shut, staring out the window where the vision was still a marbled blurry mess.

“Do you remember? Remember what I did to him?” You asked softly, removing the napkin from your lap, folding it and placing it on the table. You knew there was one last course coming, some sort of ice cream, but you didn’t care.

You wanted to go home, you needed to plan.

“Yes.” Rey said, voice barely above a whisper, because she did – she was there.

“Remember how I spared you?” You asked, snapping your finger and drawing her attention so that she could look at you, so that you could look at her, really look at her.

“Yes.” Rey answered, terrified.

You were no longer all smiles, all warmth. You were no longer sunshine and charm as you had been, as you tried to always be. No, no now you were angry, now you were impatient, now you were offended. Your eyes were cold and hard when you regarded her, when you bore your gaze into hers as you leaned in ever so slightly, leaned in just enough to make her lean in too.

“I’m starting to regret that.” You whispered, before pulling away.

The waiter arrived then with the ice creams, and you returned to your normally cheerful disposition, checking your phone and collecting your belongings.

“Shit, would you look at the time!” You laughed breezily, apologetically to the waiter. “I need to get going, Kylo will be expecting me back home soon. You know how he gets if he’s away from me for too long.” You said to Rey, who was stunned.

“Of course.” She said, mind racing, pulse jumping.

The waiter nodded, handed the ice creams off to someone else passing by so they wouldn’t melt, no use in wasting them on people who wouldn’t eat it.

You eyed the little piece of newspaper that was still on the table, and picked it up.

“Oh, would you mind holding onto this for me? He doesn’t like it when I fill in the puzzle without him, gets all sour.” You winked, folding it up and handing it to Rey.

“Did you finish it?” Her voice shook as she accepted the paper.

“No, there’s one left, I was hoping you could solve it.” You smiled warmly, standing up and putting on your coat, “It’s got me stumped I’m afraid. Forty-two across.”

“Sure I can take a look.” Rey looked like she was in a daze, emotional whiplash making her dizzy.

“Thanks Rey.” You said, excusing yourself to the waiter. “I’ll see you soon.”

You left a few hundred dollars on the table, and made your way out of the tea room.

You barely made it to the door when you heard a loud _FUCK!_ and the shatter of crystal hitting the polished marble floor, sound of footsteps running, the murmur of nosy socialites wondering what the commotion was all about.

Without even so much as turning around, you smiled to yourself, as the doorman opened the glass doors and you stepped outside.

Your heels clicked on the pavement as you stepped up to the vehicle where Dopheld was holding open the door, a curious look on his face.

“Did you have a nice lunch, Mrs. Ren?” He asked, ever so cheerful and polite, friendly.

“Yes Dopheld, thank you.” You said, sitting in the back of the car and clicking your seatbelt into place. “It was very insightful.”

You reached into your purse and pulled out Kylo’s phone, paused and saved the recording so Kylo could listen in on it as soon as you got back home.

“I’ll bring you back then?” Dopheld asked, smiling at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Yes please, Kylo is going to follow us.” You pulled out a compact mirror and your lipstick from your purse, reapplied your favorite color since the brunch had rubbed some of it away.

“Yes ma’am.” Dopheld pulled onto the street and into the light traffic of the mid-afternoon.

You looked behind you and gave a little wave to your husband, who was in the car behind you. He lifted a palm for a moment before returning it to the wheel, a small wave of his own kind. Smiling, you turned back to face the front properly, and hummed to yourself.

“Oh, Dopheld?” You asked, “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Anything, Mrs. Ren.” Your driver was always eager, jumping at the bit to help.

“Do you happen to know a three letter word for, ‘traitor?’” You asked, a coy smile spreading across your face, as his eyes widened in the rear-view mirror.


	8. Furs

The drive had him in a near frenzy. Kylo never noticed how good of a driver Dophled was, never paid much mind, until he was stuck behind the boy in traffic, until he followed the path Dopheld cut for him. He would have to give the boy a raise, he decided as they blew through a red light, barreling down the streets of midtown towards the apartment where he was desperate to arrive.

He can see you, just barely. Can see you through the tinted glass, tinted dark enough that it might as well be illegal. But he can see you, the back of your head, your pretty hair. His body is on fire for you; fuck you’re so sexy, he thought. You were sexy sitting in that little tea room, bringing up all of his shitty sister’s dirty laundry, and you’re sexy now.

He can’t wait to get his hands on you, to beg for you, to hear the praise that he knows he can coax forth – he just has to get home first.

A rat, he thought to himself with a white-knuckled grip on the fine leather of the steering wheel. His own sister following in the footsteps of his god-awful father. He had suspected, he had thought, had sensed some betrayal, and the confirmation of it all had his blood boiling.

Was it boiling, or was it singing?

Either way, you held the key to reigning him in, and he nearly held his breath in anxious anticipation of your lips on his, soothing his veins.

* * *

He felt like a boy again, when the cars pulled up outside the apartment. He didn’t bother turning off the car or parking it, letting one of the apartment valets do it for him, tossing the kid the car key.

He felt like a boy again, watching you step out of the shiny black Bentley, watching your elegant leg stick out of the car. He took long strides across the short strip of sidewalk, offered you a hand as he always did, as he always will do. Your well-manicured hand was practically drooling with gold, gold he had given you, and he cannot help himself as he brought the back of your hand up to his lips.

You smiled, ducked your head for a moment and pressed the palm of that hand to his cheek, his scarred cheek, the one you so lovingly caressed. There was a hint of something in your eye, something between hunger and anger, a dangerous fury, simmering just below the surface of your composure.

Kylo’s cock grew hard in his nice pressed trousers -- few had seen you so furious, even fewer had seen and lived. It was some delicious dark thing, one he wanted to revel in for the rest of his life.

And soon, soon he could. Soon he would have all the power all on his own, he wouldn’t have to vie for it, wouldn’t have to negotiate, wouldn’t have to compromise within his own fucking family. No, soon Rey would be gone and he could have everything he’d ever dreamed of.

Kylo opened the front door of the apartment lobby for you, let you light the button for the elevator.

Only when the elevator doors closed and the key to unlock the button for the penthouse had been pressed, did you embrace.

All at once, the raging clawing desperate fire in him comes to life, and he backed you up against the wall of the elevator, hands all over you. He never felt more alive than when he had you in his arms, than when your lips were on his. And on his they were, tongue hot and coaxing, sighing against his mouth, pulling soft whines from the back of his throat.

He could taste the tea on your tongue, sucked off the last droplets of honey and pistachio, kissed and kissed and kissed you as the elevator soared.

“I fucking knew it.” He growled against your cheek as he took a small break to breathe, his hands already asking permission to cover your breasts, to grope you and squeeze the flesh which he so adored. “She sent the cops crawling, didn’t she?”

“Poe and Finn got to her, she defected, and it’s going to ruin everything if we don’t stop her.” You nodded, panted against him as you guided those shaking hands of his against your skin, under your bra.

“We’ll stop her.” Kylo almost didn’t know what he’s saying, he was so focused on the feel of your skin, hot hot hot in his hands, his big hands which nearly covered you completely. He willed the elevator to move faster, wanted you home so he can beg to fuck you. “I’ve been waiting a long time to shut her up.”

“I feel like this is my fault.” You sighed, and he paused his ministrations with a scowl.

“Don’t say that.” His anxiety rushed through him at your distress.

You were _never_ at fault, ever. Never had you done one wrong thing in your life, as far as he was concerned. You could have killed the entire family, could have burned the businesses down to the ground, and he still would have thought you right.

But you were frowning, and it made his heart beat fast in a way that made him run cold. He didn’t like to see you frown, not like that.

“If I had killed her when I had the chance – if I had let you go after her the way you wanted...” You looked off into the reflection of yourselves in the polished walls of the elevator, genuinely introspective and lost in thought. “Maybe none of this would have happened.”

He shook his head, nudged your chin so that your face was tilted towards his.

“Rey was useful for a time, until she wasn’t.” He said softly, licking his lips and bending down to kiss you once more, to kiss you forever, kiss your frown away. “At least now we have reason to make a point of her, now no one can come after me for it.”

That had you smiling, and the relief flooded through him almost as quickly as the nerves had. It was amazing, he thought, just how the sight of your pretty lips stretched into a grin could flip such a switch in him. Sometimes he thinks about how lucky he is to have you, thinks about how you save him over and over again, every day, every moment of every day, with that smile.

But other times…other times he is enchanted by the cold callous cruelty in your eyes, never at his expense, but at the expense of your enemies. He relished the way you shared that cruelty with him, shared his enemies and adopted them as your own.

Fuck, he loved you.

And you, his savior wrapped in velvet, you loved him back.

“No one will come after you, they wouldn’t dare. But we need our hands clean of this crime, with the police on her side they’ll suspect us immediately.” You whispered, like the cops have bugged the elevator, like they’re listening in. You clasped one hand around his tie and gave it a firm squeeze, “We have to be careful about this, no rampant massacring.”

“I have a plan.” Kylo nodded, bit the inside of his cheek and felt the thrill of a murder yet to come bubbling up inside him, starting in his stomach and trickling through his arms to the tips of his fingers where they trembled with want against your skin. “One I’ve been sitting on for-fucking-ever.”

“Where does it start?” You kissed him, deliberately, slowly, in that measured way that Kylo knows he will never be able to achieve, not when it comes to you.

The elevator dinged, finally having arrived at the penthouse lobby, and he took your hand in his own, led you to the lavish front door of your apartment.

“With the rabbi.” He said eagerly, other hand turning the lock and pulling you inside with blood pounding in his ears.

“The rabbi?” You frowned, trying to remember this plan.

“Yeah but first – (Y/N), honey, I – ” The plan could wait, everything could wait. For now he needed you, needed your body pressed against his, and he wasted no time dragging you to the bedroom.

You go willingly, happily, already unzipping and unbuttoning yourself, already shedding your clothes as you follow him into the room. You’re naked by the time he picked you up and threw you onto the bed, your bright laugh ringing through the modern furnishings as you bounced on the mattress, gorgeous in the yellow sun of the afternoon.

The windows were all open, all the curtains wide apart, wide wide wide like your legs as they spread for him.

“I know, I know.” You reached for him, beckoned him close, “Take what you need, take me.”

He could come from just that, you both know. He could stand right there and come all over himself like some messy slut just from your sweet words, your words of encouragement and permission. But his eyes are zeroed in on your pussy, and he practically tripped over himself to rip his suit away from his overheated skin, so anxious to fuck you that it almost made him sick.

He knew you need to be taken care of, need to be prepared. His cock was big, he’s proud of it, he’s proud of the way it made you feel. But only when you’ve been stretched for him, only when you’re ready for him. So he climbed naked onto the bed, rolled you over onto your hands and knees so your back was arched and your ass was presented to him.

His chest burned burned burned with lust, and he had to grip the base of his cock because you hadn’t said he could fuck you yet, hadn’t given him permission for that. He reached around you to stick a couple fingers in your mouth, and you, the perfect fucking angel you were, sucked them in between your teeth. You drooled all over them, so much so that when he pulled away, spit hung like little strands in a spiders web of lube on his hand.

“Touch me Kylo.” You told him, and he had to shut his eyes so he wouldn’t completely lose himself.

He slid his coated fingers into your pussy and shuddered at the way you moaned. He knew he should go slowly, knew he should take his time, but there’s not much time to be had, not much time to be savored in the way he wanted. So he pushed three fingers into you right up to the hilt, shuffled behind you so so so close, draped his stomach all across your back so he could feel the shocks of pleasure through your body.

He head rested on your shoulder, as your body quivered for him.

“Oh, _fuck_ that’s good.” Your sighs and gasps and pants and moans were delicious as he curled those three fingers inside you.

He wondered if he could, if you’d let him, put in a fourth. His hands were so fucking big, you always liked to compliment him on it, always liked to say so. You always told him how big his hands were, maybe you’d like to get fully fucked with them.

“Ah! Kylo, honey, more -- harder.” You ordered, and he was so happy, so willing to obey.

He worked you open until your thighs began to shake in earnest, until your arms had to be growing sore. He’d roll you over in a moment, he knew he would, he just was too obsessed with the feeling of your pussy soaking his hand. He leaned back to sit on his haunches, and his other hand which had been supporting his weight now came around to smooth up your stomach, sending the muscles and flesh twitching with excitement.

“I could…” He drooled all over your lower back where it’d arched for him, “I could fit my whole fist in here.”

You flinched lightly at the spit, tensed around his fingers, squeezed him tight. Fuck you’re tight, he thought, always somehow forever so tight, as if you were begging to be fucked in the way that he would beg to fuck you. You threw a glance over your shoulder as you rocked back on his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers because his brain had stopped momentarily from how good you fucking looked.

“Don’t you dare.” You teased, bringing him back to life.

“I won’t – but I could. I could and you’d take me, your pussy would take the whole thing.” He bent over again, pushed into your cunt with the heel of his palm, pushed you up the bed so your arms would give out and you’d collapse onto the mattress face-first.

“Your big cock is enough.” You muffled, moaned, as he found the little spot inside you that had you panting quickly into your pillow.

“It’s big?” Kylo asked, sweating sweating sweating, dick rock hard against your thigh.

“So big!” You nodded, voice high. The praise only made his dick leak, only made it ooze pre-come from the tip, only made him groan.

He pulled his fingers away from your sweet cunt, brought them up to his mouth to lick off the juices there, licked up every drop of your sweet pussy that he could, the slick making a mess of his goatee. He wanted it, wanted to bathe in it, would bathe in your blood if you’d let him.

“How big?” He asked, guiding his cock to rub between your folds, your pussy throbbing for him.

You teased him, made him growl with the way you shimmied your hips back and forth, back and forth. He wanted to sink his cock into you, wanted to fuck you hard with it, but you hadn’t said yes yet, hadn’t told him he could. Instead, the slippery hot lips of your pussy sucked him in and he had to restrain himself, had to make himself stay just there, just coating his cock in your wetness.

“Fucking huge. So big that I can feel it up in my throat when you fuck me, I can taste it like when you come in my mouth that’s how big it is.” You said, and he groaned, pre-come pulsing out of him, his balls already so tight, his stomach already so tense.

“Please, precious, (Y/N), I -- please let me, please – ” He couldn’t hold back any longer, he just couldn’t he might cry, might weep tears of arousal and desperation if you didn’t let him fuck you properly soon. But he could save his tears for another day, because as soon as he started to plead for your pussy, you found the strength to push back onto him.

You pushed your cunt only an inch onto his cock before he grabbed your hips and slammed himself the rest of the way, knocking the air out of you.

“Yes, yes! Oh, Kylo.” You moaned high and loud, biting the pillow hard, your pussy sopping wet and dripping all over his thighs. He wondered if you came, if you came already just from being fingered and having his big big big cock – you said so, you had said it was big, his fucked up sex drunk mind played on loop – all the way inside you.

He would never get tired of this, of this feeling. Of the way you consumed him so. You have inhabited every cell, every nerve, every fiber of his being; and when you gasped on his cock, he felt like he was on fire, like he could raze the entire planet down to the ground. You were everything, _everything_ to him, everything he had ever wanted or needed, everything come together just for him.

He didn’t know how you do it, how you fit him so perfectly inside you – inside your heart, your soul, your mouth, your hands, your cunt, he didn’t know. But he was grateful, wanted to show that gratitude.

“Ah, ah,” He grunted, the loud smack of his skin against yours already intoxicating his obsessed brain. It was the only word for it, the only word really. Obsessed, he was obsessed with you. His hands gripped you tightly, gripped your thighs in a way that he knew would bruise. He’d bruise you all over if you’d let him, and he so desperately wanted you to let him, so he asked, “Please?”

You shimmied out of his hold for a moment, re-arranged yourself so that you could be on your back, and it was as if the gates of heaven above parted for him with the way you wound your calves around his hips.

He took the opportunity of seeing your face to kiss you, one palm on your jaw, tongue hot hot hot down your throat. He ground his cock into you, rolled his hips, rolled them as they were flush against your sweating body. He loved when you sweat, loved when the strands of your hair stuck to your cheek, your mouth bitten and kissed raw.

“You’re so good for me, so good.” You moaned and panted against his lips as he bent himself into whatever shape he needed to be able to kiss and fuck you at the same time. “The best, do you know that? You’re the best.”

His head went fuzzy from the praise, fuzzy and fucked up, god you’ve got him under such a spell, under such a tight grip. He’s not complaining, he’d never complain, he could only groan as he sped his hips up, dragged you down the bed with that tight grip of his, tight like your cunt on his cock.

He built up so much speed that he could almost hear the harsh squeaking of the bed underneath you, could almost hear the slam of the headboard against the wall. He sucked the air straight from your lips, carbon dioxide making him hazy, your hands and nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders, the meat of his back.

“Oh! Oh Kylo, yes!” Your voice is loud, fuck it’s loud, so loud in his ear and yet he felt a million miles away, swimming in the _warm tight love comfort joy relief_ that is your pussy.

He took and took and took all his pleasure straight from the well of lust between your legs, rammed himself up up up into you, rammed himself so hard and fast that before he knew it, your gasps shifted from pleasure to pain.

“Ow -- Fuck!” You gripped his hair tight with your hand, winced sharply as his cock shoved itself up against your cervix in a way he suddenly realized wasn’t fun, wasn’t comfortable. His chest ached and pained immediately, and he slowed his hips down, less of a frenzy when you shook his head a little with a kiss and, “Kylo be careful with me honey.”

“Sorrysorry I’m sorry.” He rushed to apologize, desperate to make it up to you, frantic for it.

He kissed you, licked a stripe across your teeth, sucked your tongue into his mouth as he forced his hips to slow, forced himself to take his time so he didn’t accidentally hurt you again. He’d kill something if you ever made a shock of pain like that again.

“Say it.” You demanded, not unkindly but firmly, firm enough that his balls tightened and his pelvis ground against you almost in slow motion. The control you had over him, the power, was enough to make him keen, his hips stuttering inside you.

“M’sorry!” He groaned into the crook of your neck where he drooled and panted like some great beast, some monster with claws too sharp as they sunk into your soft flesh like putty.

You preened under the attention, under the gaze of his dark dark dark eyes, your mouth open, unable to close from the feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, all the way up into your throat like you had said.

“Again, like you mean it.” You bared your teeth – and that was the most delicious thing, wasn’t it?

He thought to himself. He was a monster, a beast, yes. But you were some wicked thing in your own right, a force to be reckoned with, a power to be obeyed. You had ambition in your eyes just the same, had that hunger for power simmering under your skin just as he did.

Kylo was willing, god he was more than willing, to offer everything to you, to give you anything you could ever ask for, could ever demand.

“I’m sorry!” He gasped, limbs shaking, trembling all over the way your thighs did, the way your face shook with pleasure as your eyes nearly blanked out.

“Alright, it’s alright. Make us come.” You nodded, let him groan and drag his dick through your body, speared himself in all the way.

“Thank you, precious.” He kissed every inch of your skin, every single inch.

He licked and bit marks into the valley between your breasts, latched his mouth onto a nipple and sucked hard. Your back arched into him, pushing your body closer closer closer to his, and his head was completely filled with the rush of blood in his ears, your whines and pants and moans caressing him like the soft warmth of a summer sun.

“K – fuck – Kylo,” Your voice grew higher and higher, until you were sobbing, until your throat hiccupped around your moans, and you came.

He loved it, the feeling of you coming underneath him. Your legs gripped his hips like a vice, your nails breaking his skin and the sick sting of pleasure broke him into goosebumps. Your body tensed and the sagged into the mattress, sinking deep into the soft world of blankets and pillows that Kylo worked so hard to keep plump and clean and fresh. He could practically taste the salt of your sweat as your body wracked with tremors of pleasure, could smell the sex on you. It was almost more than he could bare, being this close to you, being so wholly yours.

Your body went pliant for him, as he fucked you through it, so close, so fucking close to coming himself – and then he grunted out his own orgasm, bright white blinding hot hot hot coursing through him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up, making his toes curl into the sheets. 

Out of it, nearly blacked out, his hips still moved, milking his cock with the way your pussy gripped him. He was almost afraid that he’d never be able to pull out – and he found he didn’t want to.

You were smiling underneath him, that blissed out look on your face something that calmed Kylo’s frantically buzzing nerves. He felt good, so fucking good, felt over the moon. His cock throbbed with come, pouring it into you, filling you up. He fumbled around the bed with his eyes still shut, until his hand grasped around one of the plush pillows you had nearly torn into two with your teeth.

He shoved the pillow under your hips and kept going, kept grunting in your ear, groaning out deep sighs of pleasure as your body took every last drop he had to give, until you were practically overflowing with his come.

“Love you.” You whispered, your fingers carding through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in that way that had him sighing happily, little noises in the back of his throat that he couldn’t really control.

Not that he had to, he never had to worry about that with you. He let himself rest on top of your body, cock beginning to go soft inside your beautiful perfect cunt. He let himself rest there, atop your skin, ear listening to the way your heart pounded well and alive underneath your flesh. He calmed his breathing down to the sound of your heartbeat, kissed and mouthed at the soft touch of your breasts.

“Tomorrow?” He pressed the word into your skin, smothered and smeared his reverence there.

Reverence, that was it. That’s what he felt for you, above all else, adoration. He wanted to hold you like some precious thing, wanted to cradle you close to his soul if he had one, if it wasn’t torn to pieces by now.

If it had, Kylo figured, if it had been shredded up into small bite sized chunks, well. You must have been the one to hold them.

“No honey, it has to happen tonight.” You whispered sympathetically, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, breathing deeply. A swell of pride surged through him at that, at how he was so able to make you lose it, make you come so hard that your hands still shook even after the glow of orgasm wore away.

“I want…” He didn’t know how to say it, how to express the way he wanted to lay at your feet like the attack dog he was once, some frothing at the mouth vicious thing that only you could heel. How he would rip the heads off of anyone who so much as looked at you wrong, how he would lay their bones in pretty arrangements before you. He didn’t know how to say it and that frustrated him, so instead he grunted out an, “Ugh.”

But you, you were so patient with him, so patient always. You smiled, because you knew, knew what he meant without him even having to say any of it.

Still, you wanted to hear it, you liked hearing him talk after he’d come, voice extra deep, baritone made you shiver.

“Use your words darling.” You encouraged, and he couldn’t think of anything else, so when he finally opened his eyes and took in the sight of you in the rich buttery afternoon sun, he feels like he’s on fire again.

“Can I bathe you?” He asked, because it was the one thing he could do to show you, to tell you without saying it.

His hands don’t shake, in the bathtub. You kept the lights off, so it’s pitch black in the bathroom, black as night though it’s only five in the afternoon. The two of you are crowded together in the tub, the water scalding hot and frothed with expensive soap that Kylo didn’t know the brand name of. He cupped his hands in the water and poured it over your head from where you’re leaning against his chest, his body wrapped around yours.

He couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t stop passing his palms over your body, lightly scrubbing your flesh with the calloused heel of his palm, rinsing away the sweat and sex that clung to your inner thighs.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, his nose prodding at your soft cheek, making you hum out a little smile.

He kissed you there, traveled slow kisses down your neck, followed the curve of your shoulder. He kissed you, lips plush and swollen from the way he found himself unable to ever stop, unable to ever take himself away from you.

“I’m all yours, forever.” You slid your hands to cover his own, where they had wound tightly around your middle, fingers interlaced with his.

The possession flared up in his blood, and the kiss to your shoulder turned more into a bite, one that had you sighing back into his embrace.

“I’m excited.” He said, apropos of nothing, “To kill her.”

And he was, he was thrilled. For years he had stood by and let her run around, let her think she had some piece of control. He had tried to deal with her, had given her Midtown some years ago in an attempt to keep her under watch, but that had failed.

He wondered when she had defected, when she sold out to the cops. Was that before she tried to murder him? Before she cut his face open and left him in the streets to die? Or was it after the realization that it would take more than that to kill him, more than that to break him down.

“I know you are, I’m excited to let you.” You smiled, he could tell you were smiling, he could hear it in your voice. “We have to get dressed.”

He pinched at your thigh lightly, making you suck in a breath. He made no move to get out of the tub though, made no move to take you into the closet and watch you get clothed, watch you get so perfectly put together. You chuckled about that, about the stillness, about the way his muscles only tightened around you when you tried to make a notion to stand.

He wrapped his hands around your throat instead, brought your head back back back until it was tipped onto his shoulder. Those big hands of his then smoothed down the front of your body, doing their best to cover every inch, every piece of you that he could.

“I love you so much.” He said, envisioning the way you’d look when he brought you back your trophy, your prize, your gift.

The thought of it almost made him hard again.

“I love you too darling,” You twisted in his embrace, kissed him and straddled his thighs, water sloshing all over the place, “But we have to go meet with the rabbi.”

* * *

The look on Luke’s face when he opened the office door to see his nephew and his wife, was almost worth the schlep downtown.

Almost.

The traffic had been a bitch, had put Kylo in a sour fucking mood, a mood which wasn’t likely to let up at all, considering he was being faced with the man who arguably, could be blamed for much of his disastrous upbringing. But, while there was much anger still harbored in Kylo’s chest, he wasn’t there for a fight; in fact, quite the opposite.

Luke must have sensed that, must have used his bizarrely strong powers of intuition to conclude that you and Kylo were here for some other reason, because that look of shock quickly melted into one of quiet, although apprehensive, joy.

“Kylo! (Y/N), hello! I wasn’t so sure I’d be seeing you here any time soon.” The old man welcomed you into the office.

You held Kylo’s hand, and he was thankful for it, thankful because he wasn’t so sure what he’d do with himself if he didn’t have the tether of your touch to guide him, ground him, as he walked into the office and sat in the big leather chairs on the opposite side of a large mahogany desk.

Kylo felt like a kid again, being sent to talk to his Uncle when he wouldn’t cooperate during Hebrew school, when he would get into arguments with the teachers and classmates.

“We come often, don’t we?” You asked, cool as a cucumber. Kylo admired that about you, admired lots of things about you, but the way you always managed to stay so cool was definitely one of them.

“Yes, but I mean here, in my office.” Luke gestured to the grand bookshelves around him, dark wood holding secrets, holding the sacred texts.

“We can leave – ” Kylo started, already aggravated, already getting annoyed, feeling far too much like he was being scolded yet again, always scolded by someone.

“We want your blessing.” You said instead, looking at Kylo, looking at him expectantly.

You looked at Kylo, and Kylo looked at Luke, and Luke looked at you, the three of you in thick anticipation of what you had up your sleeves. They were very fine sleeves, expensive ones, satin that draped gorgeously over your body, cascading over your shoulders.

“(Y/N) and I are trying to have a baby.” Kylo admitted, because it wasn’t a lie.

It was better to stick to the truth, when it came to Luke. He wasn’t as good as you, not nearly as good, but he could always tell when Kylo was lying.

His uncle narrowed his eyes, mulled over the declaration for a moment or two before he too sat back in his big leather chair. His kippah got slightly pushed around from the way he let his head settle into the cushion, and he scratched at the beard which once may have been blonde, but now had faded to a salt and pepper grey.

“Are you really?” He stared at Kylo, as if this were some cruel joke Kylo might play.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.” Kylo’s hand drifted down from where it was intertwined with yours on the armrest of the chair, to your stomach. You weren’t pregnant yet, not to your knowledge anyway.

But soon, hopefully soon. He’d take you to Paris as soon as this was all done, had plane tickets tucked away in his jacket pocket to jet you off abroad where all the mess of the murder could be cleaned up and he’d fuck you all day every day, a celebration of your anniversary.

Hopefully, when you both came back to the states, you’d be eating for two.

Luke, despite the tenuous relationship between him and his nephew, smiled. He didn’t congratulate you, didn’t offer any words of encouragement, because that wasn’t done. It would be back luck, it would jinx the whole thing, if he had been overjoyed. Kylo appreciated that, and he knew you did too.

“Of course not.” Luke agreed, no need to tell anyone anything when there wasn’t anything to tell. “Leia will be overjoyed, having a grandchild.”

Kylo rolled his eyes, clenched his jaw in a steely attempt to walk out from the mention of his mother.

“You know that won’t change things.” Your hushed voice was a balm over Kylo’s aggravation, and he let his hand return to its spot against your palm, your fingers lacing through his in their usual way.

“Maybe not, but a baby does bring an insurmountable abundance of joy, and knowing you two, they’ll be the most loved and spoiled thing in the entire world.”

“Will you give it to us, then? Your blessing?” You were hopeful, eyes pleading.

Your charm was truly something to behold, because Luke was standing up from his hair and beckoning you forward in an instant. You smiled so wide at him and Kylo tried not to let his jealousy show too strongly.

“Yes, come here.” Luke reached for your hands, and you gave them to him.

Kylo turned his attention to the office around him, for a moment. It was a very nice office, all dark woods that had been carefully polished and treated well, taken care of lovingly. There was a big window which let light pour in in streams, it caught little flecks of fluff and bits of nothing in the air. If Kylo had been a better student, he thought to himself, maybe he could have one day worked in an office like this.

But, he smirked to himself, he had to admit, his own office was much nicer.

Much like his office though, Luke’s was full of secrets. And it was these secrets which had brought him and his most beautiful, perfect wife, to visit.

When Luke had finished reciting some prayers and Kylo was sure he wouldn’t be interrupting, he rose from his seat and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Can I talk to you privately for a minute?” He cleared his throat, getting the attention of his uncle who regarded him warily.

It was known that Kylo didn’t like to really do anything privately, anything without the comforting company of you. Luke’s apprehension was valid, as you sat down back in your chair and pulled out your phone, content to scroll through something while they spoke.

“I’ll wait here.” You smiled, that smile which put Luke at ease, which convinced him to lead Kylo through a back door, into a smaller, more secluded section of the office.

This was Luke’s private study, a place he didn’t very often let people visit.

Kylo walked around to the other side of Luke’s desk, presumptuous and annoying in the way he touched Luke’s shit, picked up a paperweight and rolled it around in his hand.

“Do you ever wish that you had children, Uncle Luke?” Kylo asked, not bothering to really look up at him.

He wasn’t actually interested in talking with the rabbi, he just needed to buy you time, that was all.

“Me?” Luke mused, face quirking into thought while he adjusted the tallit around his shoulders, “No not really. No offense Kylo but you really put a damper on the whole idea. Why do you ask?”

That almost made Kylo huff out a self-deprecating laugh, almost. He remembered the nightmare that he had been as a child, when his parents had given up on him and sent him away, when he’d spent too many of his days cooped up in the synagogue. He didn’t blame Luke for thinking so negatively of him – the feeling was mutual.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about it, about fatherhood.” He put the paperweight down, and Luke visibly relaxed now that a blunt instrument was no longer in the palm of his murderous nephew. “You know, with (Y/N) trying to conceive and all.”

“Have you been thinking about fatherhood in general, or about Han?” Luke asked, and Kylo felt his whole body go cold.

Han was a sore subject, for a lot of reasons. He had always been a sore subject, even from the time of Kylo’s youth. It almost felt like all the bullshit that happened in his life happened because of Han. And maybe that was being overly dramatic, but well. The Skywalker bloodline had never been known for their logic and reasoning. 

“Han.” Kylo said, eventually. Because it wasn’t a lie, he had been thinking about him. “How he failed me. How you failed me when they sent me away. How Snoke failed me. I feel like I’m cursed, I don’t want my child to feel the way I feel about all of you.”

He never knew what it was about the rabbi, how he could spill all his fears right there in the open, fears he was too afraid to acknowledge out loud because if he acknowledges them then they’re real.

“I’m sorry.” Is all Luke had to offer, and Kylo did huff out a laugh then.

“Yeah I’m sure you are.” He rolled his eyes, walked around the desk to look at some of the books Luke kept in the personal study. He wasn’t really reading them, didn’t care much for the names on the spines. He just wanted to appear interested, didn’t want to look like he was stalling.

“He shouldn’t have done what he did, shouldn’t have been so absent. Neither of them should have. But murder isn’t always the answer.” Luke placed a hand on Kylo’s shoulder, a comforting gesture that he tried his very best not to shake away.

“Maybe not, but it is the one that feels the most satisfying.” He checked his watch, worried about the time.

The timing of this whole fucking mess had to be perfect, had to go over just so, this more than anything.

“I’m very surprised to see you, all things considering.” Luke said, removing his hand when it became awkward and uncomfortable.

Kylo sighed, ran a hand through his hair. He wanted a cigarette, wanted to be close to you. You were just there, just on the other side of the door in the office, and it was all Kylo could do to not rush to your side.

“I wanted to start this off right. I wanted to give them the best chance of being the happiest they can be. That’s all.” He said truthfully, quietly.

“So they’ll go to Hebrew school then? Get Mitzvah’d?” Luke prompted, and Kylo did give a genuine smile then.

“God willing.” He replied, making the rabbi tsk and shake his head.

“You know you’re not supposed to say that.” He admonished, and Kylo only shrugged.

“Just like old times.” He mused, before deciding you had officially been given enough time, and turning to the old man who stood before him. “Thanks Uncle Luke.”

Luke only nodded, and opened the door for him.

You were sitting in your chair, seemingly not having had moved a muscle, still scrolling through your phone. If Kylo looked close enough, he’d see you were browsing through Pinterest for nursery ideas, and that made his chest warm.

“Sorry honey, let’s go.” Kylo broke the calm silence, and you pretended to be startled in a way that had him so in love with you, so in love with how fucking crafty and cunning you could be.

You stood at the arrival of the men and gathered your things in your arms for all of a moment before Kylo took them from you so you wouldn’t have to carry them.

“Everything alright?” You whispered to Kylo, mostly a show. Kylo nodded and bent down to kiss you, felt the life breathe back into his lungs from the way you hummed gently against his lips, before you broke the kiss and turned back to Luke with a small dose of embarrassment. “Thank you again.”

“Be careful, both of you.” Luke said, before sitting at the desk and tending to whatever paperwork and duties you had interrupted.

You bid him goodbye and walked in comfortable silence with Kylo until you were far enough away from the temple to be overheard by eager ears.

While the two of you waited for Dopheld to pull up in the Bentley, you rummaged through your purse and plucked out the small steel case you had stolen from Luke’s office. One of the many secrets hidden away in those bookshelves, were novels that had the pages cut away to leave small recesses for small objects like this.

Small, lethal objects.

“You’re terribly smart, you know that?” You bumped your hip against his playfully, a great big smile on your lips, looking entirely like the cat that got the cream.

“I do.” He teased right back, praise turning him warm and making him fill with pride. “He doesn’t know I know about it, they’re supposed to be kept there for safekeeping.”

You opened the case and admired the bullets, the way they shone. The glossy coating had an almost purple sheen to it, and Kylo could tell you almost wanted to pick one up, wanted to touch it. But you knew better, knew that once that poison stuck to your skin there was too high of a risk that it could do harm, too difficult for it to come off. 

“This is a nasty way for her to die.” You closed the case, put it safely back in your purse and slid your arms around his neck, kissing him right there on the sidewalk, as Dopheld pulled up.

“Well the way I see it, we can either poison or drown the rat.” He mused, opening the door to the car and offering a steadying hand for you as you climbed in.

“We have to trap her first.” You replied as you settled easily in your spot, pulled flush against Kylo’s side as he sat and closed the car door behind him.

“Yes.” He agreed, winding his arm around your waist and sighing happily as you pressed small kisses to his chin and cheek, “It’s a good thing you’re wearing black.”

* * *

To say that he was stepping into a hornet’s nest was an understatement.

At least, if the cold glares that were shot over the shoulders of the Hux family were anything to go by. Kylo readjusted his grip on your hand, and he could practically _feel _the hatred oozing out of the Irish mob that had come together to mourn one of their own.

You watched carefully, poised and ready to strike if the need should arise. Afterall, the last time you had come in contact with them, it had resulted with Roisin dead in a car on her way to the hospital. They watched back just as carefully, an illusion of peace in this time of great sorrow. Sorrow for them, anyway.

The funeral ceremony hadn’t yet begun, not officially. The place was packed, absolutely jam packed, to pay their respects to the poor unfortunate soul which laid at the front of the great big room. Kylo led you down the nave up to the open casket, careful to have the signet ring hidden, careful to have it tucked into your pocket, not on display in front of all of them.

It was deadly silent, in the church. That oppressive silence like lightning about to strike, thunder about to crack. You had not come to start trouble, Kylo knew this. No, the trouble had already been started, had been instigated by one of their own.

Kylo had only returned the favor.

Despite being so used to murder, so faced with it in his line of work, his lifestyle, it always was a sore sight to see. The man in the casket’s sharp features were somehow so soft, now that life had been whisked away from him. His orange hair somehow gained more vibrancy, more life, now that it had been properly washed and cleaned, not a mess of product.

“He was beautiful.” You had to admit, “In a severe kind of way.”

Kylo would much rather look at you, any day of the week.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Hux materialized at Kylo’s side, nearly vibrating with restrained rage.

Kylo couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a brother killed – let alone a twin brother. He figured he would know the pain of losing a sister, but William truly was an unfortunate accident. If he were a kind man, he would have apologized then and there, would offer some sort of words of comfort.

But he was, in fact, not a kind man.

“If you still want Hell’s Kitchen, you’re more than welcome to have it.” You said softly, so softly, not taking your eyes off William, the much more gentle of the two Hux brothers.

William had always been an open secret, and you had never harbored any ill will over the man. You even shed a tear for the way his eyelashes brushed against his cheek, Kylo watched it slip down the side of your nose.

Hux looked at the two of you, and without releasing a breath he turned on his heel and snapped his finger for the two of you to follow him.

Kylo didn’t appreciate being beckoned like some animal, it brought him too many memories of the days where Snoke – he shook the thought from his head, steals a steadying squeeze of your hand, before holding open a door for you to pass through, out of the main room and down a dimly lit hallway which led to a small room that appeared to be the place where the children of the congregation were taught. Kylo didn’t know for sure, he wasn’t familiar with this layout.

“What do you want in exchange?” Hux asked, not facing either of you, not wanting you to see how affected he was by this death.

“My sister has gone out of control, she’s the one who murdered your brother.” Kylo spoke up, a lie which did its job in shocking the man into whipping his head around and taking two big strides to get entirely in Kylo’s personal space as he continued, “We need you to help us take her out. Avenge William’s death and get her out of our hair.”

Kylo had never noticed just how steely Hux’s eyes were, had never gotten close enough to look. They were red-rimmed, and that made the stormy blue-green-grey stand out even more, even in the low light of the empty classroom. He would agree with you, they were handsome brothers, if yes a little severe.

“A man who desires revenge should dig two graves.” Hux hissed, his teeth bared, face shaking.

“Will you do it?” Kylo really fucking hated repeating himself, but, if all went well, he won’t have to answer to Hux anymore, won’t have to answer to anyone anymore.

“Why all of a sudden?” Hux demanded, breathing hard, anger coursing through him. “What’s changed now?”

You were watching from Kylo’s side, watching to make sure Hux didn’t slide a dagger into Kylo’s ribs like he’s wont to do – always a fan of carving people up, that one was.

“She’s not one of us anymore, and she knows too much. She’s done too much. I’m more than happy to take care of her myself, but I thought as a sign of good faith, you might like to help since she’s been as much a thorn in your side as mine.” You said, taking over for Kylo, who, frankly, wanted to kill the weasel right there.

But just as Rey was useful for a time, so could Hux be.

“Where?” Hux asked, making Kylo’s plan only that much easier.

“The docks.” You replied, and then already anticipating his next questions, “Tonight, a quarter to nine.”

“That’s not enough time.” Hux shook his head, stepping back away from Kylo’s personal space finally. Kylo didn’t give him the satisfaction of making a show of how relieved he was.

“That’s all the time we have.” Kylo spoke up honestly.

“Quarter to nine.” You reiterated, “Be there, or consider Hell’s Kitchen off the table, permanently.”

The three of you stared down one another, stared and stared and stared, stared and waited for him to agree. Kylo could cut the tension with a knife, if he had one. Instead all he had were guns strapped to his chest ready to be fired at any moment.

“Quarter to nine.” Hux eventually agreed, a curt nod of his head.

The church bells chimed, and that was your cue to leave.

You held Kylo’s hand tightly and made your way out back into the hallway, pausing just before you were fully out to turn back and regard the mob boss with genuinely sad eyes.

“Mr. Hux?” You asked for his attention for just a moment more to say, “We’re very sorry for your loss.”

It was pouring rain, when Kylo snuck you out of the church through a side exit, where Dopheld was waiting with an open umbrella. He was close behind you as you rushed under the shelter of the downpour, the water freezing cold in the autumn wind.

The weather had taken a dramatic turn, but one that would be beneficial for the main event tonight, one that would aid in his plan. Because of Dopheld’s quick thinking and preparedness, you had not a drop of water on you, and you snuggled up to Kylo’s side happily, digging through your purse.

You always kept on your person a small film cannister, one of the dark plastic ones that protected film from the harmful rays of the sun. However, instead of 35mm negative, it rattled with small chips, little plastic cards that you poured onto your hand, leaved through with your nail.

Kylo watched in awe as you found the one you were looking for, and as Dopheld zipped through the streets, you popped it into the burner phone Kylo handed you. You both watched as the phone powered on, a blank thing that only was ever used for times like this, plans like these.

You scrolled through the list of contact on the sim card, stopped when you found the name you were looking for.

Kylo was always amazed with the speed that you could type at. He hated shit dealing with phones, hated it. He didn’t like calling, and while he preferred texting, he didn’t actually _like _texting. His fingers were too big for the buttons, he was convinced.

But he looked over your shoulder, rested his chin there, nuzzled his cheek against yours.

_Shayna punim, can you do me a favor tonight?_

Your finger was hovering over the keyboard, waiting to send a reply as soon as the text came through, ready to spring, ready to get this over with.

Rey was a notoriously fast texter as well, and it was only a matter of the traffic light turning green for a response to be sent.

_Is everything okay Ima? _

You smiled wide, and Kylo could feel the excitement bubbling up in him. It was really happening, he was really going to get the chance to do it, to do the one thing he had been waiting years for.

You typed back quickly, but no so quickly that it would be suspicious, Leia wasn’t exactly the world’s finest technology expert, and it usually took her a short moment to respond anyway.

_Yes, sorry it’s so last minute, I’m expecting a delivery from the furrier we know, you know the nice Italian fellow? _

_Ma I didn’t know you were still running business ??? _

_If anyone asks, I’m not. _

_When do you need me there?_

_8:55 sharp. Boat will show up at nine. Don’t tell Kylo. Delete these texts – we never had this conversation. _

_I love you._

_I love you too. _

You deleted the text messages from the burner phone, and powered it off so the GPS wouldn’t be able to be tracked. Kylo watched as you popped the sim card out of the burner phone, and tucked everything back into its place inside your bag.

“Do you think she’ll do it?” He asked softly, reaching for you, hand grasping around your wrist, just feeling your pulse.

“She’ll do it.” You nodded, turning your body towards him, tugging on his earlobe playfully with your free hand before sighing, “But I have to go to the police before she does, we need alibis.”

Kylo groaned loudly in the backseat of the Bently, thudding his head on your shoulder. This was his least favorite part of the plan – the part where you two had to split up. You had to be bait, had to be a distraction, one convincing enough to stall for time.

“Honey can’t we literally do anything else?” He complained, voice deep deep deep and aggravated. He wanted a cigarette, and cursed the rain for not letting him open the car window without him getting soaked.

“No darling, I have to distract them so you can take care of the job.” You kissed his face sweetly, kissed him to calm him down. “You need to rough me up. I’ll go in saying I got robbed.” You announced, making him pull back.

“I love you but are you out of your mind?” He frowned, now _desperately _needing a fucking cigarette.

“Kylo, please?” You whined, pouted as if he were being mean for denying you this, “Just make it look like someone attacked me.”

“That would mean _I _have to attack you, and no.” Kylo was firmly resolute in this, and you knew it. He knew you knew it.

“Well I very well can’t punch myself in the face, that’s not very realistic.” You complained, before getting that look in your eye, a look of an idea that Kylo knew meant trouble. “Dopheld, pull over.”

“No, absolutely not.” Kylo shook his head at once, shooting daggers of a glare at the poor driver who was now glancing back with concern.

“Dopheld, please, pull over somewhere dark.” You said, and fuck, dammit all, the nice boy was doing as he was told, albeit it with shaking hands.

He pulled into an alleyway that he happened to know, another one of your little hiding spots that Kylo kept under control. There was just enough cover there that you didn’t get immediately drenched when you left the warm comfort of the car to go stand expectantly, Kylo clamoring out to meet you.

Dopheld got out of the car too, and waited for whatever insane order you were going to give next.

And insane it was, because you lifted your chin and squared your shoulders, looked your driver dead in the eye and asked, “Can you please attack me?”

Dopheld was shocked, stunned even. Kylo appreciated that about the boy.

“…Excuse me?” He squeaked out, swallowing a hard lump in his throat, clutching his little hat in his hands, trying to avoid getting rained on.

“Attack me, knock me to the ground, you know.” You gestured with your hands, presented yourself to him with open palms to show you wouldn’t retaliate. You needed to be injured convincingly, needed to have some reason to go to the police – but this was just out of the realm of possibility for what Kylo was willing to allow.

“Dopheld don’t you fucking _dare_.” Kylo growled, and now the poor boy was torn.

“Oh gosh I don’t – ” His hands rung the hat in front of him, but you sighed.

“This is a direct order Dopheld.” You reminded him, not unkindly.

“Dopheld if you lay one finger on her I’ll cut it off and I’m not kidding.” Kylo hissed, definitely unkindly.

“Fuck you’re both so scary I don’t know what to do!” He finally lamented, pacing back and forth, weighing his options.

“Kylo go back in the car.” You kissed your husband’s cheek, making him scoff.

“No!” He shook his head. He knew you only wanted him in the car so he wouldn’t immediately strangle the kid, wouldn’t immediately snap the bones in his hands for harming you. But it wouldn’t work, he wouldn’t --

“Ahh!” Dopheld shouted and lunged forward, fist swinging as he jumped at you, knocked you to the filthy pavement of the alley, already apologizing, shocked with his behavior. “I’m so sorry, oh my god I’m so sorry Mrs. Ren.”

Kylo grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and hoisted him up against the wall of the alley, fully prepared to choke the life out of him.

“Kylo put him down.” You ordered from the floor, voice firm but powerful, “Kylo, I mean it.”

He dropped the boy and immediately helped you up, brought you to your feet and brushed the wet gravel away from your beautiful body. Dopheld had gotten you pretty good, hit you in the nose hard enough to make it bleed even though it thankfully wasn’t broken.

Still, the sight of you in any state other than perfect bliss was like murder to Kylo’s own heart, and though you had demanded it, though you had explicitly asked for it, he can still feel the white hot pulse of rage creep up around his eyes.

“I don’t like seeing you like this.” Kylo’s body shakes, pent up rage, angry angry angry at the way your blood is dark and glinting in the streetlamps.

When had the sun set, he wonders? Had time really flown by so much between all the errands and the traffic that it was already time to part? His anxiety spiked, he didn’t want to be away from you, he didn’t want to have you sitting like a duck surrounded by those fucking cops. 

“I know honey, I know, but it’s going to be for the better, I promise.” You soothed him, sensing his distress with the way his breath was coming in short sharp pants.

He crushed you to his chest, wrapped his arms around you, that wild monstrous thing in him just wanting to kill, wanting to maim, wanting to coax forth blood on the streets. You knew, and you didn’t discourage it, only redirected it, reminded him that this energy could be used productively, could be used wisely.

“Thank you Dopheld, now take me to the station.” You said, ushering everyone back into the car.

* * *

Dopheld stopped the car about a block away from the precinct. It had been decided that you would walk, through the rain, without your purse, without anything, to give the illusion that you had had all your belongings stolen. Kylo had asked Dopheld to pull over so you could go through all the weapons on your person and removed them, that way if the cops searched you they wouldn’t find anything interesting.

Your nose was still bleeding, and Kylo was still seeing red.

“Listen to me.” You whispered, cupping his cheeks with your palms, kissing him and smearing your blood in his mustache, your lips smudging your words against his own, “I know you. I know how you are. Just kill her and come back to me, do you understand?”

“Okay.” He nodded, already thinking about when he’ll be able to be by your side again.

He wanted to get this over with quickly, efficiently. His part was only one small piece to this, the initial piece, he couldn’t take too much time with it, otherwise he’d be a suspect, he’d be suspicious.

“I know this means a lot to you, we can celebrate once the dust has settled, but I cannot under any circumstances have you put yourself in a position where you’ll get caught.” You read his mind, whispered as though no one in the whole world could hear but him.

“I know.” He nodded, a shuddering breath calming him enough to get the rush of blood to stop pounding in his ears for all of two minutes as he agreed, “I’ll kill her and come right to you.”

You kiss him passionately, strongly, your mouth a force to be reckoned with as it opened for you. He could taste the blood on your teeth, licked up in a frenzy, like some shark sensing its prey. But you were no prey, not by a long shot, and you kissed him like you owned him – because you did.

“I love you so much, I’m so in love with you.” You were almost in tears with emotion, real, true, genuine emotion, as your hands smoothed down his suit jacket and your eyes shone with pride as you laid it obvious to him with, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Don’t be proud of me yet.” Kylo only had the strength to let you go just this once, and he knew if he didn’t let you leave now, he never would, and you would both just have to flee the country and deal with these consequences another time. “Now go. I’ll be back soon.”

There could not be another time, the clock was ticking, Kylo knew. He checked his watch.

You give him one more kiss for reassurance, and then you’re out the door. Not taking an umbrella, not taking your purse – hell, not even taking your coat against the bitter frigid rain, you walked proudly and unflinchingly through the downpour, towards the station.

Kylo and Dopheld watched and waited until they could not see you anymore, until you were firmly so far out of their sight that the race really had begun.

“Mr. Ren?” Dopheld’s voice piped up from the driver’s seat, his eyes concerned in the rearview mirror.

“Yes?” Kylo ground out, his gaze steadily tracked on the way the water sleeted down against the windows of the bentley.

“For what it’s worth, it’s been an honor to be your driver, sir.” Dopheld said with a sigh, and Kylo frowned, wondering what the hell he could mean until – oh. Right.

“I’m not going to kill you, Dopheld.” He assured the boy, with more gentles than he would probably have given, were he not genuinely a nice and competent kid.

“Oh!” The relief in Dopheld’s voice was almost enough to make Kylo smile, that pure unadulterated joy at getting to live another day. It wasn’t something Kylo was used to hearing, wasn’t an experience those who dealt with him were used to having, but still that joy is there, and Dopheld puts the car in drive once more, pulls away from the side-street where you were no longer visible. “Thank you, sir.”

“To the docks, please.” Kylo said, hands curling around the empty space where your body should be.

Soon, he thought to himself, soon he’ll be back with you.

That’s all he wanted, was to be with you.

They were silent in the car on the drive over. Kylo busied himself by loading up his guns, gloves on and careful to avoid getting the poison which coated the bullets anywhere near his skin. There wasn’t enough to fully load both his guns, so he filled the remainder with normal bullets. If he were in the mood to be dramatic, he’d make a game of it, a Russian roulette style death.

But there was no time to be dramatic, not tonight. He didn’t mind so much, he’d be celebrating for the rest of his life anyway.

He checks his watch in the dark, as Dopheld pulls up to a side entrance down near the river, the ships still, the place empty except for the pounding of the rain. The rain was good, it meant no one would be there, no one who shouldn’t be there, anyway. He didn’t need any witnesses fucking this up.

He gets out of the car without a word, hangs back underneath the shelter of a large storage shipping container. Hadn’t you once told him that rich people were converting those into tiny houses or something? He didn’t know, but he felt like it would be terribly fucking uncomfortable for him, he nearly was as tall as the damn thing.

He checked his watch again, and when the clock read exactly a quarter-til, Hux stepped out of the shadows, an umbrella over his head. Kylo wasn’t surprised, Hux was in the same suit he had seen him in earlier, no doubt having just come from the funeral.

“When?” Hux asked by way of greeting, wanting his revenge, wanting it now.

“Ten minutes.” Kylo replied, and Hux nodded.

Hux looked so eerie, standing there under a lamp post, the rain beating down on him. Kylo wondered if he painted such a picture, if he were so intimidating. If you were there you would have told him, he knew Hux would never give him the satisfaction.

“What are you going to do?” Hux asked, genuinely curious, from across the dock.

“I’m going to shoot her.” Kylo shrugged, and Hux’s face pinched up in anger.

“That’s not fucking fair.” He scoffed, but Kylo rolled his eyes, wondered if Hux could see.

“It won’t kill her, it’s only going to slow things down.” He explained, and Hux took a step forward, as if he were about to whisper a secret to Kylo and not shout it across the dock through the rain.

“She’s the rat, isn’t she?” He asked.

Kylo didn’t want to dignify that with a response. It was bad enough having a rat in the family like Han had been, openly blatantly selling his family out to the highest bidder. But it was even worse to have two rats, the second one much more secretive, stealthy, conniving. To have it happen under a cloak under your nose, to have it go on for years and years and be totally unaware.

“Make it painful.” He said instead, and even from across the dock, Kylo could see the fury in his eyes.

“After what she did to William?” Hux shook his head, “She’ll be unrecognizable.”

And with that, both men retreated to the shadows once more, only having to wait a few more minutes before this plan could come to fruition.

Rey showed up at exact eight-fifty-five, as you had instructed her to. And, stupidly, it looked like she didn’t bring any backup. But why would she, when she was just meeting with a furrier her mother had arranged? She stood with her umbrella near the edge of the dock, watching water slosh up against the concrete barrier, the river tide rising from the rain. Not enough to be dangerous, but enough to capture her attention long enough for Kylo to take in a deep breath.

Without wasting any more time, he stepped out from behind the big shipping crate, walked across the dock to stand underneath a streetlamp. She didn’t hear him for a moment, the sound of the rain too heavy around her. It was only the sound of the gun trigger being cocked that caught her attention – that sound was impossible to miss.

She turned around, and held her breath. She had to have known that this was coming, you had done a good enough job of telling her she was caught. Maybe she had anticipated you waiting longer? Maybe she had thought you would have controlled Kylo?

On either account, she was wrong.

“What are you doing here?” She asked anyway, as if she didn’t know.

“Picking up some furs.” Kylo replied.

He fired all ten rounds in the glock straight into her. The silencer he had attached to the end of the gun was almost pointless, as thunder cracked and lightning split across the sky.

If he were a more religious man, Kylo thought that maybe this tempest would be a sign of his wrongdoing. But he was not, and it read far more like a celebration of his actions than anything else.

Rey fell to the ground immediately, clutching at her wounds. There was so much blood, it poured absolutely fucking everywhere, but the rain washed it away, washed it down the dock and into the river. The poison on the bullets paralyzed her enough that she couldn’t scream, something which Kylo was grateful for. He didn’t need the police being alerted early, didn’t need them being told ahead of schedule what was going on.

Kylo walked across the way to where his snake of a sister writhed on the floor, and crouched down next to her. 

“You should have been smarter than this.” He shook his head.

He took his token from the kill, as he always did, and wrapped it neatly in a handkerchief before he stood again and turned towards the shipping container where he knew Hux was waiting, watching.

“All yours.” He said to the man, gave him a nod in his direction.

He could see the cleavers that Hux held, could see how they shone polished steel in the night.

And without another word, he made his way back to the car where Dopheld was ready with a clean pair of clothes and a cigarette.

* * *

He’s in a proper frenzy, by the time he made it to the precinct. The kill wasn’t one nearly as torturous as some of his others, not nearly as drawn out, as painful. But he was still flying high, his adrenaline pumping in his veins. He had done it, he had fucking done it. He was exhausted but exhilarated at the same time and he knew there would be a shitstorm ahead of him for it, he knew there would be consequences for it – but this one, this one thing, these fucking cops, wouldn’t be one of them.

He was in a clean suit when he barged into the station, and it wasn’t difficult for him to play the part of a concerned, angry husband. It wasn’t difficult for him to storm through the bullpen like he owned the place, wasn’t difficult for him to get foaming at the mouth furious at the thought that someone had ambushed you.

“Where the _fuck _is my wife?” He shouted, not giving a shit about anything, not caring about one bit.

The world needed to know that no one fucked with you, and though this was all staged, though this was all fake – that message was one thing he wanted absolutely crystal fucking clear.

“Mr. Ren! Please – sir you must – ” One of the cops he didn’t recognize tried to stop him, but Kylo shoved him away.

“(Y/N)? – You!” Kylo caught sight of one of the police officers, Poe, one of the ones he needed to keep occupied for a little while longer. Poe took stock of Kylo’s rage and decided that now was not the time to employ petty banter. “Where the fuck is she? What happened to her? Is she alright?”

With each step that he takes that isn’t closer to you, he begins to grow panicked for real, begins to worry for real. Poe just walked, walked and walked back through the station, leading Kylo to you, to where you were.

“She’s okay Kylo, where have you been? She’s been asking for you.” Poe sounded genuinely concerned, like he actually cared for once in his life.

That wasn’t fair, Kylo thought, many people cared about you. It was Kylo that Poe had a problem with, he never wanted you to know any harm.

“I was packing our bags, we’ve got tickets to fly to Paris tonight – take me to her?” Kylo lied.

It wasn’t entirely a lie, the bags were packed and the flight for Paris _was _in only a couple hours. Kylo wondered absentmindedly if there was blood underneath his fingernails.

Poe led him to an interrogation room where you were bundled up in blankets and given a mug of tea to keep warm, but the first sight of him, you abandon all of that and practically throw yourself into his arms. Finn was there with you, paperwork in front of him, no doubt going through the notions of filling out a police report.

When you and Kylo kissed, it was like the world slowed, like the orbit came to a halt, and nothing existed in time and space other than the way you shuddered against his lips, the way your arms wound around his shoulders.

“Honey, tell me everything, who did this to you?” Kylo asked, playing the part, keeping up the act.

You hiccupped and cried, cried and cried crocodile tears in front of the officers, in front of Finn and Poe who tried to avert their gaze to give you both some privacy as you made out.

“I think it was one of the Hux family, when they hit me their ring fell off, see?” You pointed to the ring that was wrapped up in an evidence bag on the table, asked for it. Finn gave it to you so you could hold it up to Kylo, so Kylo could see the ring that he had given you only the evening before, and you asked, “That’s their crest isn’t it?”

He pretends to not know for a moment or two, before groaning, before giving the ring back to Finn.

“It is, fuck (Y/N), you could have been killed.” He held your face between his hands, eyes searching yours.

He found nothing but perfect clarity there, and he tried to express nothing but the same.

If you could just get out of here, if you could just get on your private jet and fly off to Paris, then you would have won this game of cat and mouse, a game years in the playing.

“Can we go home?” You asked so sweetly, so softly, so sadly, that Kylo wanted nothing more than to whisk you away, especially as you gestured to the clothes which were now wrinkled in odd places from the drying rain. “I want to shower I feel disgusting.”

“Not yet, I’m sorry, we need to ask a few more questions.” Finn shook his head sympathetically, and you groaned.

“Can’t we answer them in the morning?” You asked, but this time Kylo shook his head.

“No honey, better do it now. We won’t be here in the morning.” He agreed with Finn, making you frown.

“What do you mean?” You asked, worried for a moment – worried that something had gone wrong, worried that the plan hadn’t worked.

But it had, and the look on your face, the pure shock, the real surprise of the evening when he pulled out the brochure and plane tickets for Paris, was the icing on the cake.

“Happy anniversary.” He said, kissing you, kissing you so softly that again Poe and Finn had to look away.

“Kylo! Shit, this flight is soon, darling you should have told me I would have packed – ” You were honestly so excited, nearly dropping the act, nearly forgetting yourself in front of the officers with the way you perked up.

“That’s what I was doing, I’m sorry I didn’t hear my phone.” Kylo said, which was a lie, but not really. The phone had been turned off so tracking wasn’t an issue, he still hadn’t turned it back on.

Just then, a random police officer stuck their head in the interrogation room, with a look of panic on her face.

“Officers Dameron, we need you right away.” She regarded Finn and Poe with a great deal of concern, and against their better judgement, they looked at one another and then back at you.

“Okay, you can go. Enjoy your flight and please, stay safe.” Finn said, placing a hand on your shoulder, collecting up the the paperwork and the ring that would lead them straight to Hux.

“Thank you Finn.” You said with watery eyes, grateful for his kindness.

And also maybe his naivety.

Kylo draped his coat over your shoulders to shield you from view, to shield you from the rain as he led you through the precinct. He wanted to tell you everything, wanted to show you, wanted to fuck you. He never felt this good after a killing, never felt this on fire after a murder.

But he waited, waited and waited and waited until Dopheld had the car door safely closed behind the two of you and you were barreling down the streets of Manhattan to the executive airport, where your private jet would whisk you away, and the troubles of life would be far behind – at least for a little while.

“Did you have fun?” You asked, eager, dropping all pretense of a damsel in distress, wiping your eyes with the back on your hand and letting a big grin split across your face.

“Let’s get you to Paris.” Kylo nodded, before he surged forward to kiss you.

As they drove down the rainy, ice covered streets, an entire team of police were heading the opposite direction, down towards the river, towards the docks.

* * *

It wasn’t until many many many hours later, when the connecting flights had been made on your private jets which had been prepared for a long sleep, when you had checked into the penthouse apartment in Paris, when you had fucked like rabbits and showered, changed into clean pajamas and crawled back into bed right when the sun was rising, did you bring it up.

The world around you bustled, people waking up and starting their day just as Kylo was content to sleep through it, jetlagged like he’d never been jetlagged before. It had been a long day, one of the longest days he’d had in a long fucking time. Hell, it’d been one of the longest weeks he’d ever had, he was sure.

But you smiled at him, you tucked yourself against his chest and smiled at him, and it was like the fatigue of it all felt a million miles away.

“How does it feel to win?” You asked, with the sunshine of the morning in Paris coming through the soft gauzy white curtains, making the entire room glow ethereal.

“Incredible.” He breathed out, because it did, it really really did.

“It’s the beginning of a new age for us, for all of us. You did that, you gave that to us.” You rolled him over, rolled the two of you onto your sides.

A beam of sunlight illuminated your face, and Kylo, the ever dutiful and loving husband he always had wanted to be, shifted so that his head would provide some shade for you. You grinned, grasped his hand and kissed his wedding ring, the only ring he wore.

“My entire life, all I’ve ever wanted…was to love you and make you proud.” Kylo whispered, an admission that he wasn’t one to make very often.

You sighed dreamily, nothing but pure love in your gaze as the soft sounds of bustling tourist traffic sounded outside the window on the streets below, people milling about the Eiffel Tower which you could see from your bed in the penthouse.

“There isn’t a day that goes by where I’m not proud of you, Kylo.” You tell him truthfully, made Kylo’s heart beat that much quicker as you pulled him down for a kiss, kissed him again and again, over and over, “My handsome, strong, capable, intelligent, wonderful, Kylo Ren.”

You looked at the token on the night stand, the little round thing in a glass jar. Kylo followed your gaze, and felt the rush of victory surge through him all over again. He was too exhausted to be able to do anything other than kiss you, too tired to really have the celebration he wanted.

So instead, he kissed you, held your face in his hands and smothered you with his love.

“They say an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” Kylo chuckled against your lips, a terrible pun at the expense of his sister. The attempt at humor made you beam, made you practically fucking fly over the moon, to hear him laugh.

“Yes,” You agreed, because they did say that. And it might have been true, it might have been, “But only if each eye is yours.” You winked.

When the week was over, Kylo would bring you home. He’d bring you home and you’d face the storm of whatever was to come. But in that moment, with the sun shining and the birds chirping, with his dead traitor of a sister’s unblinking gaze put away in a drawer in a nightstand in Paris, Kylo found that he didn’t even need to check his watch.

Instead, he simply let himself be wrapped up in you, his best friend, his lover, his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue coming tomorrow! <3333


	9. Epilogue

The traffic, you couldn’t help but think with a little breath of a sigh, really never wanted to quit, did it?

Poor Dopheld drove the best that he could through the streets, maneuvering and navigating the congestion of the city. The rain didn’t help, slush on the streets from a strangely early blizzard. The weather this year had been so unexpected, you blamed global warming. Kylo sighed, furrowed his brow and checked his watch.

Some things truly never changed, did they?

“We’ll be on time.” You assured him, lifting the hand that was twined with your own.

You pressed a kiss to the palm, nuzzled your face into it with a gentle smile. Kylo leaned into your space, rubbed his big nose against yours for a moment before claiming your lips in a soft chaste kiss of his own, before flicking the cigarette ash out the window which was only cracked an inch or so open for that very purpose.

He wasn’t in the mood to talk today, and that was fine.

A lot had changed, a lot had to be addressed tonight, and that was fine too.

You were pressed up against Kylo’s side, as you had been for the past couple years. If he had been protective of you before, if he had been obsessed with your safety before, well now was a completely new level of possession. You let yourself be held, the arm that was slung across your shoulders tugged you closer, impossibly closer. You let yourself be held, tucking your head against his neck, nosing at the skin of his throat.

The time had come once again, for the annual meeting of the families.

How a year had passed, an entire year since the _Incident_, you didn’t know. You were kept too busy, busy with travel plans and managing the scandal. Busy with being a business owner and a wife. And of course, a mother.

Your darling infant daughter was sound asleep in her car-seat, one of those expensive and convoluted things with too many straps and buckles for you to reasonably do alone. Driving always got her drowsy, not that she ever had trouble sleeping. She was the most spoiled thing on the East coast, and you knew a certain someone would be very excited to see her in a few moments when Dopheld would pull up to the restaurant.

If anyone thought that having a kid would make Kylo quit the business, they would be sorely mistaken. If anything, it motivated him to get even more involved, to spread his reach further. In the year following the wake of the murder, Kylo had risen up to levels of power he had only dreamed of prior. He had surpassed the legacy of Snoke, had now he wasn’t just feared, he was given a free pass to do anything he liked, whenever he liked it.

He was, of course, far too introverted to want to really do anything other than stay home with his beautiful family, go to the office, and murder those who double-crossed him – but the sentiment was nice.

Kylo checked his watch.

You kissed him sweetly, peppered chaste nothings to his neck and cheek as he smoked his cigarette, flicked the ash out into the pouring rain. He was dressed in a new suit, well, a new old suit, another one of those vintage Armani’s he so adored. Crisply ironed from the dry-cleaners and richly black as ever, with a bowtie that never managed to stay straight no matter how often you adjusted or fiddled with it. Your outfit was in a light-colored satin fabric despite the weather, one that complimented your skin tone nicely in an attempt to bring about a good mood for the dinner. Ever since having the baby, you tried to avoid wearing too much black.

After what felt like ages, the car came to a slow and gentle stop in front of John’s of 12th Street. Tradition was tradition, you thought to yourself happily, as Kylo disentangled himself from you.

“We’ve arrived.” Dopheld informed you both with a smile through the rear-view mirror.

“Thank you.” Kylo nodded to the boy, before getting out of the car.

You unbuckled the baby from her safety contraption and tucked her against your chest to shield her from the rain. You had decided to dress her in an outfit given to her by her favorite uncle – or rather, her most adoring uncle, who would surely appreciate that gesture.

When you and Kylo had thrown her a Simchat Bat, Uncle Lando had shown up with a literal parade of gifts. Toys and clothing in all manner of sorts and styles. He said he wanted her to have options no matter what her preferences wound up being. And he wasn’t the only one! It was as if a royal baby had been born, with how many people were in attendance for the naming ceremony.

You and Kylo had to buy a second penthouse just to store everything, you were so fortunate to be so well respected and loved.

Everyone you were to meet with tonight had come to the Simchat Bat, and aside from one or two, you hadn’t seen them since. You had all kept in touch, as you always did, but this would be the first time in a long time that you would see some of these heads of family face to face. 

“Shall I wait here?” Dopheld asked you as you waited for your door to be opened.

Dopheld had been absolutely invaluable, during the trials. There of course had been trials, surrounding the death of your sister in law. Trials that took ages and ages of deliberation only for you to be acquitted, just as you knew you both would be. Dopheld had been called as a witness on your behalf to support your alibis, and you were so impressed with the way he lied so easily. For such a nervous man, he truly did have a great deal of mental fortitude when the time called for it.

“Oh please come inside, the weather is miserable right now. Get something hot to eat.” You encouraged as you watched Kylo chat idly with one of the restaurant valets.

“I don’t mind, really ma’am – ” Dopheld began to protest, but you shook your head to interrupt him.

“I insist. You won’t be allowed in the back room with us, but we’ll pay for your bill. I know Thanisson is supposed to be here any moment, why don’t the two of you have dinner on us?” You prompted, enjoying the way the blush on his cheeks deepened at the thought.

“Thank you ma’am.” He said very softly, a thanks for both footing the bill, but also supporting him and this budding relationship that had begun to blossom over the course of the year. 

As if on cue, a car pulled up against the curb behind you. Kylo opened your door and offered you a steady hand to step out with. A valet boy stood behind him and struggled to hold an umbrella over his impressive height, the poor thing.

“Alright?” Kylo asked, making you smile. It was the first thing he had said in about three hours.

“We’re alright.” You nodded, turning slightly so Kylo could see that the princess was still sound asleep.

He kissed your temple and walked with you to the front doors, extra careful so that you didn’t slip on the ice and slush on the sidewalk. You were soon joined by all the members of the KoR. Knuckles and Slip and Six were of course your favorites, but that was just because you saw them the most often.

The other two, Maisy and Neve, were normally in charge of scouting out the streets and making sure things that needed to stay under the covers, stayed there. But now Kylo wanted all of his most trusted friends and guards to stay close to you. You didn’t mind, you liked being surrounded by big strong men and women.

Speaking of which, as you and Kylo lead the pack through the restaurant lobby, you scan the place for your dear cousin Gwen. She hadn’t taken Rey’s death too hard, in fact she didn’t seem to spend much time mourning the girl at all. You spoke with her nearly every day and turned out that Gwen wasn’t interested in anything more than sex, which wasn’t very surprising, knowing her.

She had no interest in having children of her own, so she was ecstatic when you had announced your pregnancy. It took all of the pressure off of her, got the family off her back. Your daughter was the first of her generation within your combined families, the Serennos and the Rens, and it felt good to have an heir of sorts.

When you do find Gwen, she gave you a pearly white grin and reached out with happy hands to scoop the sleeping angel out of your arms and give you a small break from carrying her.

“Hello Kylo, hi sweetie, how are you doing?” Gwen kissed your cheek and then began to soothe the baby who had fussed momentarily during the exchange of arms holding her.

“We’re wonderful, although I wish it’d stop shitting rain for five minutes.” You sighed happily, taking in stock of your cousin and asking, “You?”

“Great actually, there’s a lot we need to talk about.” She responded, making you arch a brow. There was always something, it seemed.

“Business or pleasure?” You had to ask, not that you wanted to really get into it all right now.

“Business.” Gwen waved it off, knowing there would be a time and place for all of that.

With your arms free, Kylo wrapped a hand around the curve of your hip, and you followed him deeper inside the restaurant as your room was finally ready. Gwen and your baby were right behind you, and it felt good to have the hustle and bustle of the restaurant get sealed away with the closing of the sound-proofed door.

* * *

The room was cozy as ever, a small intimate place set aside just for you. The candles were softly burning and there were a few select waiters with trays of champagne or wine, bottles of beer and cheeses to pass the time while everyone else arrived. You counted the chairs at the large circular table, which had been fitted with a white linen table cloth and was already set with all manner of fine china and silverware. 

“It’s going to be so strange, don’t you think?” Gwen asked the both of you, mostly thinking out loud.

“Every year it’s something different, but it’s always the same.” Kylo piped up, and you gave him an encouraging grin, glad to see that he was in the mood to play along the game of socialization, even if for a little while. He chewed his lip, not really knowing how to keep the conversation going, and finally settled on, “Did you get a haircut?”

“Just a trim, do you like it?” Gwen asked, reaching up a hand and running her fingers through her short pixie.

“Yes, very severe.” Kylo nodded, having decided that that was enough interactions for a while, and instead turned towards you and kissed your cheek, drifting down to the corner of your mouth.

Not much longer after that, did the vibrant personality of everyone’s favorite Uncle burst through the door with a loud, “Where’s my niece?”

You retrieved your daughter from Gwen’s arms, and happily brought her over to the old man who as always, was dressed for the opera in a emerald green satin suit. It just so happened, that the dress you had chosen for your daughter to wear to the dinner, also happened to be a green satin, which made Uncle Lando grin with all his gold teeth when he saw.

“Someone woke up just in time to see you.” You showed him how the baby’s eyes were wide open and taking him in happily, and she smiled and laughed when he extended a shaky finger to lightly bop the tip of her nose.

“God damned what an angel. An absolute fuckin’ angel. Isn’t she the sweetest?” Uncle Lando nearly got misty eyed at the sight of his niece. He had grandchildren of his own of course, but they were mostly grown up now, and sometimes it was just hopeful and uplifting to get to bare witness to the next generation.

“She is! Would you like to hold her?” You offered, never wanting to be rude.

“When we sit. I don’t trust these old bones to carry any more weight than they have to, if you catch my drift.” Uncle Lando gratefully declined for the moment, as he lifted his cane in support of the fact. 

“Old? Nonsense, you’re looking young and spry as ever.” You winked nevertheless, and were just about to escort him to his seat out of respect, when he stopped you and spoke low in your ear.

“Kylo been treatin’ you good? He’s not too busy with everything that’s gone on?” He asked, deadly serious for a moment.

“He’s perfect, as he always is.” You assured him, grateful for his concern.

Everyone else arrived before eight o’clock, although some cut it a little close. Kylo kept checking his watch, making a mental note of just how close, when each head of the family came through the doors. 

Bob Fett came with gifts, expensive bottles of rare imported wine as an excuse for why he was nearly late.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ren, good to see you, it’s been some time hasn’t it?” Bob greeted you both jovially.

“Mr. Fett we really must get together more often, thank you for coming.” You smiled, passing the wine to the Knights to take care of.

“Damn I gotta tell you, you look almost better than you did before you got pregnant. Which that ain’t something a lot of women can say.” Bob had a bit of a habit of being a casually misogynistic bastard, and you almost entertained the thought of poisoning him for that comment, but then he burst into a wet coughing laughter and you knew the man would likely be dead within the next few years anyway, and so you smiled when he asked, “Where’s my seat?”

“Let’s go find it together shall we – drink?” You humored him as you gestured for a waiter to come over with a glass which he happily accepted.

As he did every year, Mr. Tarkin arrived quietly, on time, and sat down with a curt nod and greeting to everyone. You didn’t fault him for it, and were in fact glad that he didn’t feel the need for unnecessary conversation.

Just when you thought there would be an unfortunate repeat of last year, the final guest for dinner made his way into the room, eliciting a round of mock applause and sarcastic cheers from those already seated at the table.

“Well look who fuckin’ decided to show up this time!” Bob rolled his eyes and called out loudly as Jabba took his seat for the first time in a long time.

“Mr. Hutt, it’s good to see you.” You greeted him, only making the men jeer more.

“Maybe it ain’t so good to see you – I was hopin’ you’d kick the bucket by now!” Bob joked with his old friend, the two of them having had such an interesting friendship. Jabba often hired the Fett family to carry out murders he wanted his hands clean from, but they were both too tough to be openly friendly towards one another.

“The devil took one look at me and sent me back here to terrorize you jackasses a little longer.” Jabba joked right back, tucking the cloth napkin into the collar of his shirt before the bread and butter had even arrived.

“Thank fuck for that, where else would I get my best cigars?” Tarkin piped up from his end of the table.

“Alright alright shut the fuck up with the language there’s a baby in the fuckin’ room.” Uncle Lando spoke loudly over everyone, and even Kylo cracked a smile at that.

“She’s too little still, it’s fine.” You assured him quietly, before clearing your throat and standing up from your spot while Kylo held his daughter. “I’d like to make the toast this year, if I may.”

“Go right ahead honey.” Bob gave you permission you didn’t really need, but you bit back that comment for another day.

You raised your champagne glass, and everyone followed suit.

“It’s been a long year, for all of us. We’ve lost some members at our table,” You made a pointed look a where Rey would have sat if she were not murdered, and where Hux might have sat if he weren’t serving life in prison for said murder, “But we’ve gained some as well. It has been inspiring to see the way that despite these changes, we are all able to remain once again, intact. The world outside these walls is very different from the world you once knew, from the world our grandfathers and great-grandfathers knew.”

You look each and every one of them in the eye as you continue,

“But we are not our grandfathers. We uphold a legacy that still blazes strong, a legacy which we continue with traditions like these, meeting together year after year. Here’s to another prosperous year ahead.” You end your toast.

“To the future.” Kylo spoke, eliciting a chorus of _To the future!_

And just like that, in the silence of everyone taking a sip of their drink, it was as if nothing had changed at all. There were fewer chairs at the table, yes. But there were chairs, and there was a table, and that spoke volumes.

Kylo looked at you, and you looked at him right back. You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, and though he didn’t smile, he didn’t have to. You could see the love in his eyes from a thousand miles away, could feel the adoration that imbued his very presence.

They said that the crime families were no more, that they had disappeared with the end of an era. But you knew better, you saw firsthand, you participated in it of your own volition.

Lucky for you, your man, and your family, no one could ever get rid of crime. Not really.

Not really.

The End. 


End file.
